The Rite of Ascension
by Noodle
Summary: *COMPLETED* In a manner of speaking, read the a/n at the bottom. Harry's woken up and the world has all gone wrong, but not too wrong because it is the last chapter and I have to tie up the plot. The ending has an interesting twist that I bet you didn't s
1. Phoenix Song

Chapter One: Phoenix Song

Disclaimer: J.K. owns the Potterverse I'm just borrowing a few star systems. You won't even notice that they're gone – promise. 

Chapter One: Phoenix Song

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Ginny Weasley walked after Harry Potter up the path to Hogwarts. It was the evening and they should have been back at the school hours ago because of the threat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, but the pair had been looking for Ron and Hermione, who as it turned out hadn't gone in the first place. 

"How are we going to get back inside, Harry?" asked Ginny, coming up along side him. 

He grinned and turned to her, "Already sorted."

"How?" she asked, she knew that Harry knew all the secret passages in the school, it was common knowledge, even if nobody knew how. "The doors will be locked won't they? And if we can even get up to them someone will spot us, people are patrolling all around the school this year."

"Trust me," he said. 

He stopped suddenly and Ginny went several steps before she turned to face him. The sun had almost set, but she could see him smiling in the last of the red light. He pulled something out of his robe pocket, a shimmering fabric and she gasped at the beautiful material. 

"That's an invisibility cloak," she said breathlessly. "That explains so much!"

"Like what?" he asked, narrowing his eyes. 

"Well – er – just people say – I heard – that you – and Ron and Hermione walk around at night…" she stammered and scolded herself silently, she was being silly and acting like a little girl around Harry. "Not that I believe them," she quickly added. 

He smiled at her beautifully, "Well you should – I do."

She felt herself blush at that smile and thanked the dimming light that he couldn't see her do so. Harry unfolded the cloak and stepped under it – he had disappeared. Ginny felt the pit of her stomach turn cold: she was alone and in the dark while You-Know-Who was growing in power. 

"H – Harry?" she stuttered, trying to hide the quiver in her voice.

Suddenly she was engulfed by darkness and felt someone's arms wrap around her. A voice by her ear whispered, "I'm hardly likely to leave you, Ginny – Ron would kill me for a start."

"I – I thought you'd gone," she said, hoping Harry couldn't tell she was shivering. 

"You cold, Gin?" he asked. 

"Not much," she managed. 

"Come on then," he said. 

He moved around so he was at her side and she was able to see out of the hood. The sky was growing very dark now and Ginny couldn't help wondering what the Fat Lady would say to them when they got back. She had never been out late, she left that sort of thing to Fred and George and sometimes Ron she supposed. It wasn't that she was a coward, the Sorting Hat had put her in Gryffindor after all, but she had never had the chance to be out late. 

Their path took them near the Forbidden Forest and she heard the snatch of a beautiful song. Harry obviously heard it too because he stopped dead and she could see him close his eyes and lift his head slightly. It was the most beautiful sound Ginny had eve heard in her life and it made her feel wonderful.

"What is it?" she whispered. 

"The Phoenixes," murmured Harry, his eyes still closed. "It's their mating song – they mate on very few occasions. Nobody had ever figured out how they know when to mate or even where – they choose somewhere different every time, you see. Most people think it's random and the Phoenixes just call to each other to decide."

"What do you think?" asked Ginny. 

Harry's eyes snapped open and he looked at her with his brilliant green eyes, "I think that there are many things we don't know. Muggles don't know about Wizards, so why should we assume we know everything…"

*****

Ginny sat on the wall outside the main offices of I.M.P. waiting for Hermione Granger to finish work for the day. She flipped idly through the copy of _Witch's Weekly _she had bought in Diagon Alley. There was a special report on Harry Potter and they had actually managed to get him to pose for a photograph, in which he looked thoroughly gorgeous. His glasses had run to the end of his nose and his chin was resting in his palm, a strand of his hair had escaped it's bindings and had fallen across his nose: he looked like the classic, brooding hero Ginny had always thought him to be. 

"It took me ages to convince him to do it," said Hermione, from behind her. 

Ginny span around and blushed slightly, "I was just admiring your handiwork."

"Of course," said Hermione. 

After growing up in a house full of brothers who would pounce upon her for starring at a picture of Harry Potter, or indeed any boy, Ginny found Hermione's smug silence infuriating and far more annoying than her brothers' taunts.

"I _was _a good article," insisted Ginny. "But I thought he was in Africa or something. How did you get hold of him?"

"France," corrected Hermione, climbing over the wall to sit next to her friend. 

"What's he doing there?" asked Ginny, trying to sound nonchalant.

"That Magizoologist he works with is studying Winged Horses there," said Hermione. "It's safer than some of the things they've done, I'll tell you that."

"I wouldn't know. I haven't seen him for more than a day since the last World Cup," said Ginny. 

Hermione gave her a comforting smile, "He's just busy, that's all, Gin. He's taking a break for a few years before the next World Cup to help his friend, Scyld, with his book and then he'll be back… I'll be able to write an article of the Quidditch teams competing to get him on their team."

Ginny rolled her eyes, "He'll go to some team on the continent – it's pretty much a guaranteed thing isn't it. He never comes back to England any more."

"Don't be so sure," said Hermione. "The Montrose Magpies want him and they might just get him. Or Puddlemere could get him… I mean it's going to be pretty close, you shouldn't assume he'll go to Europe."

"Since when did you become an expert?" asked Ginny, wrinkling her nose. 

"Since I met your brother and decided we were in love," said Hermione with a mocking smile. "Now come on, lunch at the Leaky Cauldron would you say?"

"Certainly," said Ginny, smiling.

She folded _Witch's Weekly _up and stuffed it inside her robe. The two women removed their wands with a flourish and cat the apparating spell on themselves. They both disappeared with a _POP! _

*****

Harry Potter sat on the banks of stream that tumbled down the mountains where Gabrielle Delacour's house was located. Pagasus' research papers surrounded him, which he had put charms on to stop them blowing away. It had been a charm that was always useful to him as someone who had studied for their N.E.W.T.s in a Quidditch stadium. 

A little further up the mountain one of his few English friends, Pagasus Scyld himself, was setting up various magical devices. Harry had very few friends altogether actually, he liked to travel and rarely got a chance to befriend anyone. Previously he had travelled with Quidditch, he had belonged to both the international team and had played for a few non-English teams in his career. After the last World Cup had finished he had taken a break from Quidditch and chosen to go with Pagasus around the world, working as a translator for the Magizoologist who had absolutely no language skills. 

"Petit dèjeuner?" asked Gabrielle Delacour, apparating beside him. "Zere is tuna, chicken and somezing with Brie. I 'ave coffee too."

"I'm feeling adventurous," said Harry, putting down his quill. "I'll have the Brie and the unknown topping."

Gabrielle handed him one of the sandwiches, wrapped in white paper. She pulled out her wand and created a few cups to drink their coffee from. She poured out Harry a cup while he investigated his sandwich. 

"What is Pag doing?" asked Gabrielle, turning to look up the slope at him. 

"He's setting up charms that will alert him if any Granian horses land on the mountain – is that a tomato?"

"Pag, lunch!" called Gabrielle. 

Pag looked up from his work and bounded down the slope to them. He dropped down next to Harry is a very Pag manner. He had the oddest way of sitting down, it was like his legs just gave way from underneath him and Harry couldn't help wondering if this hurt. 

"Are you 'oping to catch any Granian Winged 'Orses?" asked Gabrielle. 

"What – oh no. It's just research, observing them in their natural habitat," he said, taking the sandwich she offered to him. "The idea is I can get info on them in their natural habitat and then I'll dredge up all sorts of facts, figures and references with the help of Harry here. It applies to all the animals I'm putting in the book. In the end I'll put it together of course – is this turkey?"

"Chicken," corrected Gabrielle. "Where are you going next? 'Arry 'as still not told me."

"That's not true!" complained Harry. "I told you ages ago that we were going back home when we'd done here."

"Oh… I must 'ave forgot," said Gabrielle. 

"Are you two arguing about something?" asked Pag, narrowing his eyes at them.

"Certainly not!" said Gabrielle, outraged. "'Arry and I never ever argue!"

"'Kay," said Pagasus with a shrug. "I've got to present my latest work to the Ministry and look a few things up at Stellionmere and Hogwarts. Want to come?"

"Yeah, Elle, you can meet the Black children in their native habitat," said Harry, looking up from his sandwich with a grin. "They're far worse when they're home – hey it's a strawberry, who puts strawberries on Brie?"

"I would love to," said Gabrielle.

"What? Put strawberries on Brie?" asked Pagasus, frowning. 

"No!" said Gabrielle, with an exasperated sigh. "I would love to come wiz you to McKinnon Castle."

"'S settled then," said Harry, leaning back into the grass. "Now why are there strawberries in my sandwich?"

Gabrielle rolled her eyes, "I seemply asked for ze specials, 'Arry. Ze woman at ze counter gave zem to me and I paid. Eet is not a conspiracy against you to make you eat strawberries."

"Could be…" offered Pagasus and Gabrielle glared at him. 

*****

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Harry followed Pagasus through the dense jungle, wands drawn. At the slightest noise the pair of them would jerk to a halt, it was hardly very safe around here. Finally Harry heard what he had been straining to hear for quite a while now, a snake. 

"This is stupid," hissed a sharp, serpentine voice. "What is the point of doing this? Is this going to do us any good? This direction is perfectly stupid, no food, no shelter and what on earth do you _think you're doing? Just stop daydreaming, keep in the real world!"_

"Shut-up," hissed a more commanding voice.

"I liked it when we were sleeping," hissed a slightly spacey voice that reminded Harry of his old Divination professor. 

"What?" whispered Pagasus. 

"Come on," said Harry. "I hear something, three things in fact."

They crept through the jungle towards the hissing. When they reached the spot where the hissing had come from Harry's eyes widened with delight. A snake, seven foot long with three heads and covered with orange and black stripes was slithering across the jungle floor. 

"It's a Runespoor," said Pagasus in an awed whisper. "A fully grown Runespoor with all of it's heads!"

"Hush," whispered Harry and then crouched down and called to the snake. "Hey! Come here for a minute."

"Are you talking to us?" asked one of the heads with the commanding voice. 

"Will you just look at him? He's covered in mud and dust, doesn't look as though he's shaved for days either."

"He can talk to us," said the spacey voice. "We've never met a Parselmouth before…"

"We could have done," said the sharp voiced head. "You forget everything! Daydreaming all day while we do the work."

"We are going over there," said the commanding head. 

With a great lot of arguing from the right head the Runespoor slithered over to Harry and he leaned down so he was quite close to it's head. The right head began to insult his dress sense and said that he smelt like he hadn't washed for days. 

"Would you like to come with me?" asked Harry. "If you'd like that."

"Why should we go with you? How will we benefit from the arrangement? It's a scam if you ask me! Remember what happened to some of our kind, he wants our eggs."

"I travel all around the world with my friend, Pag," said Harry. "You'll get to see all sorts of things if you come with me."

"Ooh, to see the wonders beyond this jungle, so void as it is of wonder and amazement to us now," said the middle head with a hissing sigh of happiness. 

"We should go with him," said the left head in it's commanding tone. "He can speak to us."

"And what he might teach us," cried the middle head.

"This is a mistake, you'll be sorry," said the right head. 

Harry smiled and the Runespoor wound itself up around his body as he stood up. When he was upright once more the three heads faced him and began to talk to him once more. Still the right head was complaining about him and the other two heads, mainly about him: Harry thought she was wonderful. 

"I'm Harry. What's your name?" he asked her. 

"What makes you think that a Runespoor would need a name?" huffed the right head, it was more of a hiss though. 

"We have been known as many things," said the middle head. 

"You may choose a name for us, Harry," said the left head. 

Harry turned to Pag, who was watching his friend with the grin only a Magizoologist could get when they were listening to someone talk to a magical creature. Harry supposed it was a bit like him being able to communicate with a broomstick, or talk a snitch. 

"She wants a name," he told Pag in English. 

"Um – you could name her after a Quidditch player?" he offered.

"Doesn't strike me as a good idea," said Harry, while the right head demanded to know what Pag was saying. 

"You're a linguistic expert," said Pag. "Can't you think of something?"

"Actually I'm just an adventure hungry translator," corrected Harry and turned back to the Runespoor. "Want to be called Trivia?"

"What does that mean, Harry?" asked the middle head. 

"Of three ways," said Harry with a smile. 

"Beautiful," said the middle head. 

"I think it would be a good name," said the left head. 

"It could be worse," conceded the right head. 

Harry grinned and turned to Pagasus who was looking at him with raised eyebrows, "So?"

"Pag, meet Trivia."

Pag grinned at him and patted him on the back, avoiding Trivia, still coiled around him. He looked very happy though. Harry wondered if the top of his head might fall off as he was smiling so much. Together the two friends walked back through the jungle to their camp with Trivia hissing in three voices. 

A/N: Did you like it? Hopefully this story shouldn't be too patched together though – yay, I'm actually thinking of writing something coherent. Please review if you like the story, or even if you don't for that matter, go on I dare you to write a little constructive criticism about my story. 

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	2. The Master of Dracomon

Chapter Two: 
    
    Disclaimer: J.K. owns the Potterverse I'm just borrowing a few star systems. You won't even notice that they're gone – promise.

Chapter Two: The Master of Dracomon 

Ron Weasley rolled over in bed and held a pillow down over his head. He gave a heart-felt groan and started counting under his breath in a vain attempt to distract himself from the noise. He hadn't had a good night's sleep all week, and before that he had been out on an assignment up North. 

There had been a Werewolf sighting in Cheshire and the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures had asked the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to dispatch an Auror. Ron had been that Auror, he had plenty of experience in tracking Werewolves and capturing all sorts of magical creatures, he had expected a challenge none the less. 

The "Werewolf" had turned out to be a large dog, a stray, and after spending days tracking the thing it had turned around and licked him! He was twenty-eight years old and one of the more experienced Aurors thanks to his experience dealing with the last of Voldemort's Death Eaters in his first few assignments, it had been ridiculous. The guys back at the office had laughed for days when he had told them that it had been a stray dog. 

He had come home to something much worse than being the laughing stock of the office though. His apartment had burnt down because the Muggle who lived below him had left the chip-pan on. His entire apartment block had burnt down. Thankfully a lot of his clothes and belongings were kept in his office due to the twenty-four hour nature of his job. 

"Five minutes sleep," he pleaded to empty space. "Just five minutes."

George had offered him a bed for the night. On retrospect he should have known better than to escape, but he consoled himself by telling himself that he had been very stressed out. The doctor had suggested he take a few weeks off in peace and quiet, and where better to spend those two weeks than with his older brother. George had apparently never heard of the words, peace and quiet though and there had been persistent bangs from the room deemed the "lab". It had been even worse when Fred had come over too. 

So Neville Longbottom had offered him a place to stay after hearing him complain about his temporary residence. Ron had been wondering why the girls had been giggling all day when they had heard this. Again he cursed his lack of foresight and even his memory in this case. 

Neville had grown up in his last few years at Hogwarts along with all of the other kids. Ron had seen a picture of Neville's father once and although he had his mother's hair colour he had his father's build, or at least he did now. Everyone had expected Harry to grow up and become a handsome lad, no-one had thought Neville would. He wasn't strictly tall, average height if anything, but he was broad shouldered and handsome. Ron and the other boys from Gryffindor had found the whole thing quite disconcerting. 

He tried to think of a soundproofing charm off the top of his head. Hermione could have thought of one, he thought. Maybe the fire had been an omen, maybe it was time for him to move in with Hermione, she had a nice, little house in the Midlands and he knew he would be welcome there. He started to think of a way to ask her if he could move in with her, at lunch tomorrow he would ask her and then he could escape. 

"God bless Hermione," he muttered and turned onto his front. 

Then to add to his bliss there was silence except for the faint hooting of an owl outside. Ron grinned into his mattress and gave a great sigh of relief. He rolled back onto his front five minutes later and realised that after all that he wasn't tired any more, he groaned and swore. 

*****

Harry sat in his kitchen at three in the morning sipping tea as he couldn't get to sleep either. He had arrived back at Herne's Grove, his home, at about midnight and he just wasn't tired at all. Trivia had coiled herself up on the kitchen table and was hissing softly at something in her dream. He leaned back and rubbed his eyes under his glasses. 

"Are you not tired?" asked Gabrielle, at the top of the kitchen stairs. 

"No, really," he said, taking another sip of tea. "You?"

"Yes, very much," she yawned. "I came down for tea."

"Help yourself," said Harry, gesturing towards the kettle. "Only bags though – I'm not a big tea drinker really."

"You 'ave never struck me as one," said Gabrielle, yawning again. 

She poured herself a cup of tea and fetched a packet of chocolate biscuits out for herself out of the pantry while it brewed. She sat down opposite Harry at the table and stirred in some milk. 

"A friend of mine used to say that putting milk in tea was a crime worthy of Azkaban…" mused Harry.

"'Oo?"

"Celea Leone," he said, taking a biscuit. 

"'Oo was she? She was a she, yes?"

"Oh yeah – but she's the Master of Dracomon."

Gabrielle grinned at him, "Reminiscing about ze wonders of Dracomon is not somezing to be doing late at night, 'Arry."

"Why not?"

"Because zen you must ask questions? And Dracomon is ze source of questions. Never ze answers… Eet should not be zought of late at night."

Harry grinned at her, "Ever been, Elle?"

"Once of course, but one day I 'ope to see more of eet," said Gabrielle.

"You should, it's beautiful and they have the best library in the world after all," he said, smiling at her. 

"What was eet your 'Ogwarts friends called ze competition - ze Quidditch Cup for library access?"

"You shouldn't mock the starting point of my career," said Harry with mock seriousness.

"Ah, no – I would never dream of eet, 'Arry," said Gabrielle, putting her hand on her heart. "But tomorrow we are going to see your godfazzer – go to sleep, hmm."

"You, Elle, sound like Brizo," said Harry, smiling at her. 

Gabrielle raised an eyebrow, "Yes? Well you 'ave never grasped ze concept of doing zings for your own good."

Harry laughed and nodded. He pulled himself to his feet and picked up Trivia in his arms before following Gabrielle back up the stairs. When he reached his bed he collapsed onto it with a thud and if he had been conscious he would been amazed that he was able to fall to sleep the second his head hit the pillow. 

*****

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The Hogwarts party entered the vast entrance hall of Dracomon. Apparently this was one of the less dramatic and beautiful parts of the library. Harry couldn't help wondering what the rest of this grand place would look like if this was the plain part of it. 

Dumbledore touched his shoulder and he turned to his Headmaster, "Yes, Professor?"

"I need you to take a letter to the Master of Dracomon,, Harry," Dumbledore told him. "The office will be clearly sign posted and if you do get lost just as one of the scholars, there are plenty of them around."

A stiff parchment was thrust into his hand and he was pointed in the direction of one of the many doors leading off the hall. He went through it as instructed and found the first sign carved at eye-level into the stone wall. For the Master's office he was to turn to his left and so Harry set off in that direction. 

Hermione had given he, Ron and the rest of the Gryffindors a thorough history lesson on Dracomon. It wasn't just a library, it was a place of learning and the closest thing there was to a University of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Dracomon had been built underground, inside a mountain and there were rumours that deep below the more often used passages there were ancient species of dragons and other beasts still lurking.

Harry also knew that the place had been constructed to keep out intruders, or at least if they did get in, make it so they never got out again. The place was an absolute maze and Harry knew he was going around in circles. He sighed heavily and looked up at the sign carved into the stone, apparently they were new features. 

"Are you lost, boy?" 

Harry leapt around and his hand reached for his wand. But when he realised he was face to face with a smiling woman who looked quite pleasant his hand stopped and answered, "Yeah – I'm looking for the Master's office. I have a letter."

"I may be able to help you, come with me please," she said brightly. 

She turned and walked swiftly up the corridor. Harry stood for a few moments before jogging after her. Surprisingly enough he had to keep up the pace as the woman was walking quite quickly. She lead him around so many turns Harry was sure he would never find his way back to the entrance hall again. Eventually they reached a large door, covered in faded, brown leather and brass studs. The woman opened the door and ushered him inside. 

The room was long, like a gallery and was filled with stacks of books, piles of paper and intricate little gadgets. Harry thought it was a lot like Professor Dumbledore's except it was cluttered and hadn't received the attention of an army of House-Elves. At the end of the room was a large desk made of dark wood. Then to Harry's surprise the woman walked around the desk and sat down, still smiling broadly at him. 

"Well then, Harry," she said. "What exactly do you have for me?"

"You're the Master?" asked Harry. "But you're – you're…"

"A female of the species," said the Master, still smiling. "It's only a title, Harry. Most people call me Celea Leone anyway. But there are lots of things that are only titles, some of them add rank of course and some of them add power. Invariable it's just a title, that rarely tells you who is behind the title… Useful thing to remember."

"I always pictured you older," said Harry, handing her the letter. 

"I am quite old you know, Harry," she said. "Older than Dumbledore – easily older than him, in fact."

"How – okay then," said Harry, stopping himself from asking her how old she was. 

"Would you like any tea, Harry?"

"Er… yeah."

She removed her wand and conjured up a set of two cups and saucers, "Do you take milk?"

"No," replied Harry uneasily.

"Ah, good boy – putting milk in tea is a crime worthy of Azkaban."

She handed him one of the cups and gestured to him to sit down in the chair before her desk. The Master took a sip of tea and blew on it afterwards with a chuckle. After taking another sip of tea she opened the letter and read through it closely. Harry began to wonder if she had forgotten he was there. 

"I am five hundred and twenty six," she said suddenly, looking up from the letter. 

"P – pardon?" spluttered Harry.

"The answer to your question."

"How did you?…" trailed off Harry. 

"Your friend, Fleur Delacour, is a quarter Veela is she not? Well I am half Naiad…. Which are a bit like Veela if you are wondering," she said, looking back down at the letter.

"I've never heard of Naiads," said Harry, frowning. 

"Probably not – they're not very popular in England," she told him and then her head jerked up. "Power is an interesting thing you know, Harry. And breaking curses is a very tricky business, but it can be done…"

Harry nodded, the Master appeared to be drifting off on a course of her own. So he just replied with something benign, "Yeah."

"One day you'll understand what I mean, Harry," she told him. "Until then I only ask that you remember that any curse can be broken… And that power is often over-rated and indeed you can have a title and a name, yet still be weak. Just remember that in your future life, Harry."

She pulled a piece of parchment out of her desk conjured a quill out of thin air. Harry watched her write very swiftly across the parchment and then fold it up and hand it to him, "Take this to Dumbledore."

"Okay…. Thanks…"

She beamed at him and settled back into her chair, "You'll understand what I mean one day, Harry. You really will."

Harry nodded once more and fled the room. To his surprise he was able to find his way back to the entrance hall without trouble, where there was a scholar waiting to take him back to his classmates. He mused over what the Master had said though and forgot about it when he rejoined his friends. 
    
    A/N: Sorry that wasn't a very good chapter was it? It was important to the story though and I couldn't think of another way of writing it. Trivia will be back in the next chapter though have no fear and we'll be seeing McKinnon Castle – where the Blacks live if you're interested. So keep reading. 

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	3. Blood Suckers

Chapter Three:

Disclaimer: A long, long time ago in a Galaxy far, far away I was pretty damn sure I knew where I was going with this disclaimer. Ah well. J.K. = owner of everything Harry Potter. Me = adult, who should be writing her essays and reading syllabus books rather than writing HP fanfiction and reading more HP than can possibly be healthy. 

Chapter Three: Blood Suckers

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Harry looked up into a familiar face with a long white beard and hair, Dumbledore. He felt terribly nauseous and his chest was throbbing as painfully as his scar did at time for some reason. He looked down at his chest as someone lifted him to his feet and realised he was bleeding heavily from the wound. Someone poured something down his throat and held his jaw until he swallowed, he felt slightly better for it. 

"You'll be alright, sweety," said someone who Harry also knew, Medea. 

Her mass of auburn hair was slightly scorched though and her piercing, blue eyes were filled with tears. Her freckled skin was stained with her tears and smeared with what looked like ash, beneath the freckles and ash though she was almost white. She looked scared to death – Harry had never seen her look at all scared before. 

"'S matter, Medea?" he asked, his mouth dry, but at the same time tasting terribly of blood. 

She burst into tears and hugged him very tightly. Harry could feel her tears soaking into his shoulder and he knew that she was getting his blood all over her. He couldn't understand why she was hugging him at all. 

"Let him go, Medea," said sharp voice that he recognised too, but it had never been this tense before. "I need to see the Blood Circle."

Harry was released and he was lowered back onto the stairs. Medea sat beside him and grabbed him hand tightly. He turned to her and frowned. He wasn't exactly in pain, it had gone beyond pain, it was like he was detached from his body and there was just the distant suggestion of pain. Someone touched his wound though and he turned to see who it was, Snape. He appeared to be trying to mop up the blood. 

"It's been cut right down to the bone," he muttered. "It isn't going to heal in the near future."

Harry looked down at his chest, from which a lot of blood had been cleared and he appeared to be bleeding much less. But he could see something on his chest besides the blood though, a very pale ring on his skin. To his horror he realised he could see the bone. Medea squeezed his hand tighter and then he saw someone else he knew, Sirius. 

"You'll be okay, Harry," he told him. "Don't worry – Snape is good for some things."

"Excuse me, could you perhaps try not to insult me while I am trying to save your godson's life," snapped Snape, but there was still that frightened tension in his voice. 

Harry heard dimly the conversations of the others around him as Snape did his best to stop the blood. He knew he wouldn't die of course, it was meant to torture the victim to the brink of death, but never all the way there. The blood would stop just before it was fatal and he would recover, that was the point of the Blood Circle. Voldemort had explained the idea of the torturers' aid to him before the Blood Circle had been burnt into his skin. 

Suddenly he was lifted up off the stairs and as his was carried up to the Hospital Wing, he knew the way by now, his head lolled back to see all those following. There was Snape, who was trying to comfort to distraught Medea. Brizo was walking slowly towards the back, she was pale and shivering. Arabella walked beside Mad-Eye Moody, her face grim and set. Remus was there too, walking along next to him, looking at him with incredible concern in his eyes. Sirius was carrying him of course and Dumbledore was leading the party. There were others too, but Harry couldn't see them with his head spinning as it was.

He was laid down on a bed in the Hospital Wing and Snape lifted his head to slip some disgusting substance down his throat. He coughed and spluttered as he was dropped back into the pillows and he drifted off to sleep. Occasionally as he slept he felt a twitch in his chest as poultices, charms and potions were tried by the assembled witches and wizards. He'd have the Blood Circle forever though, just like his scar. A snake biting it's own tail, the symbol for eternity, in the Blood Circle it meant eternal pain and Harry wondered if he really would suffer as badly as that. 

*****
    
    Harry landed on the paved stone front of McKinnon Castle and dropped his invisibility cloak. There were definite pros to flying under the cloak, he could fly during the day-time for a start, on the down side it was very stuffy under the cloak and he could not fly like he would on a pitch. 

He folded up his cloak and slipped it into his pocket and threw his broom over his shoulder. His broom was handmade, a rarity in the modern magical world. It had been a gift from the England team when they had won the World Cup with his now legendary and highly dangerous manoeuvre, _The Phoenix Ascent_, named after the tattoo on his back.

Trivia slid to the ground and the right head glared at him, "Are you incapable of flying in a straight line, Harry?"

"I thought it was wonderful," said the middle head. "The way we shot down that valley at top speed! We would have never had anything like that back in the jungle."

"It was a good decision," said the left head. "Apparating is not a wise thing to do with us coming along too."

"Yes! It gives me an absolute headache," snapped the right head.

"Are you agreeing with something I chose to do, Trivia?" asked Harry, grinning.

"Wha - no! Don't be stupid! Of course I'm not agreeing with you."

Harry laughed and walked up to the large wooden doors with Trivia at his heels. He knocked on them with his broom handle. After a few minutes the door was answered by a shorter than average House-Elf with large green eyes and a nose bent so that it turned up a little at the front. Harry immediately grinned and the little House-Elf grabbed him about his middle in a tight hug. 

"Master Potter, you have returned to McKinnon Castle! So many adventures Master Potter must have had. Will Master Potter tell Luri of them?" she asked in her high, squeaky voice. 

"Sure, Luri," said Harry, stepping inside. "Where is everyone though?"

"Master and Mistress Black are down at the lake with the young Mistresses Black," said Luri. 

"Great," said Harry. "I'll just nip down to see them then. Come on, Trivia."

The right head, who had been making a few choice comments of Luri's attire, was silenced by the left and Trivia slithered after Harry through the house and out to the grounds with Luri scurrying after them all. The grounds were mostly forest besides the paved bit at the front few avenues through-out the forest and the lake at the bottom of the glen. Surprisingly enough though, Hogwarts was less than twenty miles away and when Harry had been at school he had often made the flight by broom at Christmas and Easter. 

"Look at the bluebells," said the middle head. "Aren't they beautiful – and look there's a deer through the trees."

"We could eat a deer!" snapped the right head. "And this isn't so great. It's just a forest in a temperate climate. If our jungle had been in England then it would have looked just like this."

"You're missing the point," said the middle head earnestly. "It is _beautiful _because our jungle was not in England."

"Yes, _but _if our jungle had been in England – or even in this part of the hemisphere, then it would have been just like this. Though the species might have varied slightly."

"Us for a start," snapped the left head. "The Runespoor species is native to Burkina Faso and that is not going to change. There are a few of us in the Cotê D'Ivorie I understand though."

"And in Greece, they used to like Runespoor there," said the middle head. "They used to have _white _Winged Horses too! They are meant to be beautiful – I've thought a lot about Winged Horses. Flying is so glorious…"

Harry left Trivia to her argument and broke into a jog down the path to the lake. He spotted the silhouettes through the trees and sprinted down to the bank and was immediately embraced. Medea McKinnon took a step back and looked him up and down critically before saying, "Your hair's too long, sweety."

"Oh, thank-you," said Harry. 

"Harry!" yelled Astraea, running forward with her too sisters. 

Harry grinned and swept up Astraea, throwing her high into the air, "Hello, Astraea," he laughed. "And how are you?"

"We're catching Burach-Bhadi in the lake," she said excitedly. 

"Really?" said Harry. "I used to do that when I came here for the summer and Easter."

"Come on then," said Hespera, grabbing onto his hand. 

Autonoë grabbed his other arm and pulled him along the bank to where her father was standing on the pier. He embraced Harry and beamed at him and then looked over his shoulder. Harry turned too to see Trivia's right head hissing at him. Harry laughed at his companion's complaints about the children as they leapt into the water and translated for his godfather.

"Interesting company you keep, Harry," said Sirius, patting him on the back. "While we're on that subject by the way. Where is Gabrielle? I thought she was going to be exposed to the horror of the Black household."

"London, seeing a friend of hers… I was in Italy recently by the way," said Harry as they walked down the pier. "I talked to Remus and Lyca – Giacomo's getting quite tall now you know – and he mentioned something about the patter of tiny feet once again… You haven't been keeping things from your godson again have you, Sirius?" asked Harry, grinning as he rarely got his godfather to blush. 

"I may have mentioned it – in passing," he added quickly. 

"Sirius wants to see if we can have a boy," said Medea, appearing between the two of them. 

"May have thought of it," muttered Sirius. 

It was widely known through-out the magical community how much Sirius Black adored his children. He was embarrassed about the whole thing though, for years he had been feared and before that he had been considered to be an incredible ladies' man, a lot of people had been rather shocked to discover after all that he wanted to be a family man. Remus, Arabella and Brizo had teased him and Medea – another one notorious for their single life – for weeks when they had discovered they were getting married. Harry had seen a lot of bets cashed in though. 

"Any names?" asked Harry, grinning even more.

"Do you want to be pushed into the lake?" asked Sirius, glaring at him. 

"Boys, stop acting like boys now," said Medea, grabbing both their arms. "And remember never to fall in love, Harry, or you too will want the same. You're just lucky you inherited Herne's Grove when you were sixteen or you might even have got a – _mortgage!_"

"God forbid," said Sirius, smiling at Harry. "The dare-devil England Seeker can't get married – think of the horror it might, nay would, inflict upon Snape when they started school."

"I am not –" began Harry. 

"Go and help the kids catch Burach-Bhadi, Harry," said Medea. "And I will be able to have a discussion with my dear husband about insulting my brother."

"Half-brother," pointed out Sirius quickly.

Harry laughed and bounded to the end of the pier before he was caught up between Sirius and Medea. He pulled off his boots, socks and jacket before diving off the end pier into the water. The lake at McKinnon Castle was smaller than the one at Hogwarts and since there were no Merpeople living below the surface there was quite a lot of inhabitants that wouldn't survive with them. Among them were Burach-Bhadi, eight eyed eels that were very fast and hard to catch. The game was to try and see how many you could catch before they started trying to suck your blood. The Black children adored the game, especially since they could hear the stories of when their parents had done this while they were at Hogwarts. 

*****

"So what did my brother have to ask you then?" asked Ginny, as she stacked books in Flourish and Blotts. 

"Oh you know, the usually sort of thing," said Hermione with a happy sigh. 

Ginny turned to her with a grin, "So just eating lunch with my brother had that effect on you? I must talk to one of his old girlfriends about his effect on women – this has never happened before to my knowledge."

"You know what he asked me don't you," said Hermione, narrowing her eyes. 

"Maybe I do, maybe I don't," said Ginny, straightening a row of _Intermediate Transfiguration _copies. "Course it is none of my business what my best friend and my brother get up to."

"Who told you?" asked Hermione, sitting down heavily on a little stepladder. 

"I guessed," said Ginny and Hermione snorted. "I really did! It was entirely deduction… Ron is not in the habit of discussing his relationships with me – come to think of it, I don't think he's ever used that word."

"Ginny," scolded Hermione. "That's hardly very supportive." 

"Nonsense," said Ginny, turning her head and then turning back and adding, "Any woman who gets tied up with any of my brothers has my deepest sympathy."

"And how're thinks going with Jonathon what's-his-name?" asked Hermione with a smile. "The Seeker for the Montrose Magpies isn't it…."

"It's Jonathon _Murray_ and if you're at all interested it is going very well," said Ginny, turning around. "He's really sweet."

"I couldn't imagine you being Mrs. Murray though," said Hermione, now grinning. "Now Mrs. Potter has a wonderful ring to it doesn't it."

"Don't, Hermione," said Ginny turning around. "He doesn't like me. He ignores me whenever we meet and it just makes it even more embarrassing if you keep making insinuations."

"Fine," said Hermione. "I've been working at International Magical Publishing for too long…. Too much gossip."

Ginny started stacking up the new editions of _Fantastic Beasts Through The Ages_ and Hermione flipped open one of the new novels that had just come in. After a while she snapped the book shut and went over to Ginny, she leaned against the shelf and smiled at her mischievously. 

"He's back."

Ginny frowned, "What?"

"Harry – he got back last night. I was talking to my friend at the _Daily Prophet _this morning, you know the Sports Correspondent and he said that Harry was coming back to play Quidditch. For England that is – your boyfriend is going to have a bit more competition than he bargained for…."

"With Quidditch or – stop it, Hermione!" said Ginny, resting her head against a stack of _Hogwarts: A History_. "Now you've got _me _thinking about it."

"That was the point," said Hermione. 

Ginny turned to her with a scowl, "Is it just me or are you less than timid when it comes to relationships. You ought to watch that, Hermione, or you might end up like Rita Skeeter."

Hermione waved a finger under her nose, "Don't even joke about things like that, Ginny… Anyway, this is for your own good, if you don't get it together with Harry it will never happen." 

Ginny turned to her completely and grabbed her shoulders, "Listen, Hermione, it's quite simple. I, Ginny Weasley, do not like Harry Potter as anything, but a friend…. The only reason I am remotely annoyed with him is because he ignores me and I don't know why," she said and turned back to the shelves. "If he just told me he didn't like me I could take that, but he just ignores me and that makes it so much more worse."

Hermione put a comforting hand on her shoulder, "There's this thing next week you know – at Hogwarts, to celebrate the start of the European Quidditch Cup, in England. Are you going with your boyfriend, Jonathon?"

"Yeah," replied Ginny, looking fixedly at a limited edition of _The Alchemist's Apprentice_. 

"Harry will be there and he'll probably be coming back with me and Ron – he usually does after these dos. You'll be able to talk to him then if you like. He won't be able to escape either 'cause I haven't had my apartment hooked up to the Floo Network yet. The boy will be all yours."

"I –"

"Don't say 'no'," said Hermione quickly.

Ginny turned to Hermione, "I was not going to say 'no', Hermione," she laughed.

"Good," said Hermione and picked up her bag. "Then we'll be able to find out what the hells been going on."

"Bye, Hermione," said Ginny. 

"Bye, Gin," replied Hermione.

Ginny watched her best friend leave and wondered if she should try and corner Harry to get an answer out of him. He was hardly very talkative with even his best friends, she had noticed, she could be imagining the whole thing. But then she recalled Fred and Angelina's wedding. Harry had gone out of his way to ignore her, even voluntarily getting into a conversation with her father about plugs and batteries. Ginny was going to find out what was the matter with him if it was last thing she did. 

A/N: Hermione is a bit driven isn't she. I figured I know a lot of nice and intelligent women who can become surprisingly driven and a bit obsessive when they want to get something done and Hermione always struck me as that type. If you object to that just tell me – I won't change to chapter, but I'll bear it in mind in the future. And yes you did read correctly, the auburn haired, blue eyed Medea is Snape's half-sister, don't worry about that either, I'll explain it soon. It wraps in with an interesting idea to why Snape hated James too. 


	4. Fallen Defenders

Chapter Three:

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling or whatever company is representing her. Very few characters are mine, but the plot is… 

Chapter Four: Fallen Defenders 

Ron sat on a desk in the long meeting room in the London branch of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Around him sat the other Aurors: Jules Fortis, Neville Longbottom, Sicalus Ellis, Otrere Baring-Ross, Seth Fitzwilliam and Persephone Riches. Giving them all an in depth briefing on what their assignments for the week were was Arabella Figg. 

Ron knew that Harry held Arabella in high regard, and he did too, but she was slightly insane. Mad-Eye Moody had trained her and she had very strict views of what should be done with Death Eaters because of it. Ron didn't exactly disagree with her, it was a hard thing to do when she was such a stunning strategist despite her slight over-enthusiasm, but he was a little afraid of her. Then again most of the magical world was. 

She had almost been killed trying to avenge the death of her two school friends, James and Lily Potter and Dumbledore had from then on put her in charge of protecting Harry. She had used an ageing potion for disguise and become a mad, old lady, in Harry's words. Arabella was also who Harry was named after, technically. 

Among her friends she was known as Ari, though her Aurors would never dream of calling her that. Lily and James had decided that their first born should be named after her, Ron would never understand why. When their baby had turned out to be a boy Ari had just become Harry. Fred, George and he had teased Harry about it for weeks and George still called Harry "Bella" from time to time. 

"Ron, Seth," said Arabella. "I'm sending you two to pursue that lead on Perimedus, he keeps getting away and I promised the Minister I'd bring him in soon."

"He's the one who almost killed that alchemist in Manchester?" asked Seth. 

"That's him," said Arabella. "I'm sure you can get his file from one of the assistants. And if that's all there is for today, good afternoon to you."

She picked up her wand and walked out of the room. The other Aurors made their exit out of the Ministry building and Seth went down to the administration department to pick up the files of Perimedus. 

"See if we had work experience we'd be able to get the kids to do this boring stuff," said Persephone, "Then we could do the whole thwarting evil plots thing."

Ron and the other Aurors laughed. Persephone was newly out of Auror training and had showed exceptional skill so she had been made a senior Auror already. The other Aurors had all been working when the Death Eaters were being brought in and had seen plenty of eager, young Aurors expecting to be catching Death Eaters and Dark Wizards every day of the week. Where as really, even when Voldemort had been building power they brought in very few Death Eaters, usually it was just supporters or sympathisers.

"Who's this Perimedus guy anyway?" asked Persephone.

"Some guy who wants to be the next Dark Lord," said Jules with a shrug. "He's more dangerous than most. But most of the Dark Wizards who might have sided with him are already in Azkaban. Anyway, he's not all that good. If there were any Dark Wizards still around they'd just kill him or he'd become a tag-along."

"He's good at evading capture though," said Otrere. "We can never catch him…. Pattern fits that he's trying to bring Voldemort back to life, but it isn't going to happen. Potter broke the spells that would have brought Voldemort back to life. Perimedus just wants a bit of power… Bit of pillock really."

"Didn't he almost kill someone?" asked Persephone, frowning. 

Ron nodded, "Yeah, but we can't do anything about it except ask people to be careful and report any sightings of him. He's not really so dangerous when you get up close, he's just the sort that throws sand in your eyes and legs it down the street."

"Oh," said Persephone, obviously disappointed. 

Ron left his co-workers at the door after Seth had given him a copy of the file on Perimedus. Rhetoric Alley was the Ministry's London Headquarters and most departments had an office there. The white buildings and brass plaques were all very well and good, but usually though the workers put there were the ones the Ministry wasn't too sure of: Aurors, Unspeakables and Administration.

"Hello, Ron," said Hermione, appearing at the end of the street. 

Ron kissed her with a smile and put his arm around her shoulders as they walked up Diagon Alley, "Finished badgering Ginny yet?"

"I do _not_ badger," said Hermione, giving him a playful shove. 

"Come on, Hermione, you know you do," said Ron and ducked her hand. "It's not an insult."

"Really," said Hermione, hands on hips. 

"Definitely," said Ron, wrapping his arms around her and leaning very close to her. "And I love you for it."

Their lips touched and stopped right there, "Do we really need a public display?"

They turned to see Harry standing before them and grinning broadly. Ron let go of Hermione and immediately pulled his friend into a bear hug that Hermione suspected crushed a few bones. Harry broke free and Hermione hugged him next, planting a kiss on his cheek. 

"What are you doing here, Harry?" asked Hermione. 

"Shouldn't you be practising like hell?" asked Ron with mock seriousness. "I want to see England get the World Cup again, you know, and we aren't going to get it if you're running around Diagon Alley."

"Well if that's what I get for wanting to see my two best friends again, then I'm awfully sorry. I'll be going now then," said Harry, blinking back a few imaginary tears. 

"Seriously, Harry," said Hermione. "What are you doing here?"

"I was going to meet Pagasus – you remember him, don't you – at the Leaky Cauldron and see if he's still got his grant from the Ministry," Harry told them. "But the meeting over ran so I'm going to meet him tomorrow."

"Who would have thought you'd have been any good at languages," said Ron. 

"I have played Quidditch in quite a few countries, Ron," said Harry. "You pick these things up."

"Want to go to Fortescues?" asked Hermione. "We can catch up over ice-cream."

"Like old times? Sure," responded Harry. 

The three old friends made their way up Diagon Alley laughing and joking just as they used to do and still did every time they met up again. 

*****

__

Everyone in the Great Hall sat in tense silence. Death Eaters had been spotted on the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest. Fang had been killed when Hagrid had stumbled across them. Even the Slytherins were silent, a few of the first years in the hall were crying and the Prefects of their various houses were doing their best to comfort them. In fact even some of the upper year students were crying and many were just as distraught. 

Suddenly Dumbledore marched in flanked by McGonagall and Snape. They all looked tense as they walked up to head table and took their seats. Dumbledore was left standing by the door though; he had not followed his two professors. "Would the Head Boy and Head Girl come here for a moment please?" he asked.

Ron and Hermione rose from their table and walked over to Dumbledore with every eye on them both. "Yes, professor?" asked Hermione, trying her hardest to sound calm. 

"Tonight the students will remain in the Great Hall," said Dumbledore. "You are to insure that they stay in here and they do not leave under any circumstances. This is the safest place in the school and although the common rooms will not be targeted they are easier to get into thanks to years of students who want to escape their houses at night. Just keep everyone under control and one of the professors will drop in every now and then to check you are all alright. 

"Voldemort doesn't want to kill all the students, they might be useful to him. So if you just keep them from getting in his way they will be safe. Can you do that?"

"Yes, professor," said Hermione tensely. 

"Professor?" asked Ron. "What will you be doing?"

"We will be re-enforcing the protections around Hogwarts to try and insure Voldemort nor his Death Eaters can gain entry," said Dumbledore. 

"Does Voldemort want Harry, sir?" asked Ron, paling slightly. 

"Yes and no," responded Dumbledore, his face growing far grimmer. "Harry should not attract Voldemort into the Great Hall though. Tonight he is after something else. Okay?"

"Yes," they both said.

Ron and Hermione returned to their seats and eyes once again returned to Dumbledore, "Now you're going to be spending the night in the Great Hall for you own safety. One of the professors or myself will come to check on you now and again. So don't worry, Voldemort isn't after you."

He waved his wand and the tables stacked up against the walls and sleeping bags appeared. The professors left and Hermione and Ron managed to sort out some sort of order. None of the students could get to sleep though and they sat up talking quickly, none more so than Harry, Ron and Hermione. 

Harry had his mother's journal open on his lap and the three frees were poring over it. Lily Evans had been a meticulous writer and when she had come to Hogwarts she had written everything down. To their amazement Lily had known even more about Hogwarts' secret passages than James Potter and his friends had. She knew of the Ravenclaw Rings, where every one of them was, in fact. She had also mapped out quite a lot of the tunnels under the Castle, some of them led right out under the Forbidden Forest, one even came out over the mountains at McKinnon Castle. 

"What are you three doing?" asked a very pale Ginny, as she came over. 

"If the Death Eaters attack we have to know the best escape we can think of," said Ron briskly. "You can sit down if you want to though, Gin."

"Thank-you," she said, laying out her sleeping bag beside theirs'. "Do you have maps of the entire school in that thing?"

"Yeah," said Harry, not looking up. "According to Medea my mum used to make little maps of Hogwarts to stop herself getting lost in her first year. When she discovered the Ravenclaw Rings –"

"The Ravenclaw what?" asked Ginny, her brow furrowing. 

"They're these invisible hand holds that you can climb around the school walls with. It's how we get up onto the roofs when we want to," explained Hermione. "You need a map of them because you have to be holding onto one before you can see the others and even then you can only seen the rings on the particular path you're going along."

Harry tipped the book up to show her an example, "That's the way to get up above the Ravenclaw common room, you can hang on just under the eaves if you're up to it. Course there is a lot of jumping involved, I mean if you want to get onto the greenhouse roofs then you'll have to jump quite a long way."

"Oh," replied Ginny, nodding. 

"The best bet is the tunnels," said Ron, returning to the book. "There's a passage down to the dungeons through the ante-room off the hall and we can get down to them from there. We can come up in McKinnon Castle."

"No, we can't go there," said Harry. "Medea told me that there have been Death Eaters in the forest around there. It's the first place they'd expect us to go."

"The Duelling Room," said Ron, clicking his fingers at the idea. "Nobody knows about that and it's easy enough to hide in if they do follow us."

"It's far enough away from Hogwarts too, but not too far away, " said Hermione. "They'll never even suspect we're in there!"

A few students turned to look at them, "Quiet, Hermione," said Ron. "The Death Eaters might be listening."

"We ought to tell them though, Ron," pointed out Hermione. "So they don't get confused."

"Right," said Ron, getting to his feet. "Hey! Listen up!"

"What's the matter, Weasley," sneered Malfoy. "Afraid of the dark?" 

"Actually. Malfoy, I was just going to tell you lot how to escape if you Death Eaters attack," snapped Ron. "Now, if _they do attack them just stay calm and go into the ante-room at the far end of the room. You'll be able to get down to the dungeons from there and we can take you out through a little-known escape route from there. So just remember that you'll be okay and try not to panic under any circumstances… Now get to sleep the lot of you."_

He sat down with a triumphant air about him and Harry smirked at him as he put his mother's journal back into his book bag. The night dragged on for what seemed like forever and Ron was just starting to get off to sleep when there was a bang and in the gloom he could see a flash of brilliant green light coming from outsides, accompanied by a piercing scream. 

The rest of the school woke up and apparently they hadn't regarded his advice and they began to scream and shout. The prefects and older students rushed around trying to keep everyone calm and Ron had to stop a Gryffindor boy going out of the doors to find out what was going on. 

Moments later, as the students were huddled together in groups there was another scream from elsewhere in the castle and some of the younger students started to cry again. Hermione was trying to calm down a group of Ravenclaw first years and Ron glanced over to Harry. 

"Do you want to –"started Ron, but Harry was already marching towards the window. 

With one leap the younger boy had climbed up onto the large sill and knelt looking out of the window. He turned and jumped back down, shaking his head as he walked back to Ron, looking very pale. He was trying to keep steady breaths, Ron could see and doing his best not to appear at all afraid. 

"Who was it?" choked Hermione, coming up to them. 

"I couldn't see," muttered Harry. "But there are Death Eaters trying to get in through the main doors – won't work of course, but Voldemort will have them looking for easier ways in."

As he said that there was another scream, closer to them and Hermione grabbed Ron's arm tightly. The three friends had turned white with terror and were all looking fixedly at the door. There was the sound of running feet in the Entrance Hall and then a scream, a sickening thud and whoever it was who had just been killed fell against the door as even the older students began to shriek with terror. 

"Not yet," said Harry firmly. 

"Not yet," agreed Ron.

They waited in silence and could hear the bangs and explosions as curses hit the main doors. The Death Eaters already inside the castle had apparently left the Great Hall though, it sounds like they were looking for something. Inside the Great Hall the tension was incredible and no-one was crying at all anymore, just looking at the doors with terror. Then there was a huge explosion and the sound of millions of wood splinters tearing across the entrance hall, the main doors had been broken down. 

"Now," said Ron. 

Harry and Hermione both nodded their agreement. Ron got to his feet and Hermione and Harry ran to the ante-room to open the passage down to the dungeons. 

"Right, stay calm," he said in a steady voice. "Now slowly – if you don't they Death Eaters will know what we're doing – walk to the ante-room and follow Harry and Hermione. Okay? Go."

The students crept across the hall, many had started wailing again as the main doors had been blasted apart and into the ante-room. Ron rounded up the stragglers and got everyone down the passageway. He met Harry at the entrance to the passage who gave him and pat on the shoulder. 

"Hermione's gone ahead – you really are a great Head Boy, you know," said Harry with a rather sad smile. 

"Thanks, mate," said Ron. 

They climbed into the passage and Harry shut the portal behind them with a click and sealing spell. On the other side there would be no sign that there was even a passageway in the wall. The two friends walked swiftly down the passage way, keeping everyone walking quickly. They came out in the dungeons and ahead Ron could see Hermione already had the portal to the tunnels open and was ushering everyone down the ladder. 

At the top of the stairs there was a flash of light and a scream. Then there was laughter that made the hairs on the back of Ron' head stick up and he tensed all over, stopping dead in his tracks. He heard Harry whisper the name of the man to whom the laughter belonged, but he had already known. To his amazement though Harry walked to the bottom of the stairs and he went after him to pull him back. 

And then he saw what had brought Harry to the bottom of the stairs. Lying on the stairs were a pair of gold rimmed, half-moon spectacles and he choked with terror, gripping Harry's arm ever harder. And then above in the entrance hall he heard a voice that he knew few people had lived to hear. 

"And how the mighty have fallen," it sneered. "Now will people understand what happens to those who challenge his Lord Voldemort! And now Mr. Black," said the cold voice, "shall you die the way your friend did?"

Ron felt Harry tense and then sprinted up the stairs from a standing start that surprised Ron enough for him to temporarily lose his grip. He quickly gathered his wits though and raced after his friend. He heard a cry from behind him and he knew Hermione was running with him too. 

"No!" screamed Harry as he reached the top of the stairs. "You can't!"

Ron could see Harry was finding trouble standing due to the pain in his scar, indeed he could see it burning red hot on his forehead and sweat dripping down his friend's face. He dare not touch Harry though, the boy appeared to be angry beyond belief and he wasn't sure which was more horrifying; to see He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named face to face, or see his friend looking both so scared, angry and full of blood lust at the same time. 

"Hello, Harry," sneered the Dark Lord. "Have you come to see your godfather's death?"

Ron looked over at Sirius who was being held by two Death Eaters and trying to lash out at Peter Pettigrew, who was cowering behind his master. But what sickened Ron to the pit of his stomach was the sight of Professor Dumbledore lying lifelessly on the floor, his hand reaching for his wand across the floor, but never able to reach it again. 

McKinnon was sprawled out across the stairs, Ron could see her the blood flowing freely from the Blood Circle on her chest a tell-tale sign that she had been exposed to the Cruciatus curse. Snape was trying to pick himself up from the floor, but blood was pouring from his chest, Ron had never even known Snape had a Blood Circle too, and he wasn't able to support himself. 

"Crucio!" snarled Voldemort. 

Sirius screamed and shrieked with agony and Harry raised his wand, "Expelliarmus."

Voldemort's wand didn't spin out of his hand, but it writhed in his grip and Voldemort growled. He turned to Harry, his red eyes flashing and then he smiled a disgusting smile. 

"Apparently red heads are a family trait, Potter," he snarled.

Ron thought he was talking about him, but then to his horror he turned to see Ginny standing behind Harry. He reached out to grab her, but with a blast from a wand he was spend across the hall and crashing into a wall. Harry raised his wand and yelled a curse that Ron couldn't hear as the blood was rushing through his brain. Before he knew what was happened Harry was dodging out of the way of a killing curse. 

Harry just dodged it, but the curse grazed his arm and now it was bleeding and his sleeve was crackling with green flame. Hermione screamed and reached out for her wand to stop a Death Eater grabbing Ginny, but she too was sent crashing across the room, hitting the stairs with a sickening crack and Ron could see how awkwardly her arm was bent. 

Voldemort swept up the stairs standing hard on McKinnon's hand, making her cry out. A Death Eater Ginny was dragged behind them all. At the top of the stairs Voldemort turned with a sweep of robes and laughed at the struggling casualties left in his wake. 

"Let's see how much you care for your little red head, Mr. Potter," he laughed. "Crucio!"

Ginny shrieked and screamed, tears running down her face and Ron tried to pull himself to his feet. He failed though and fell back, but Harry did. Voldemort pointed his wand to Harry once more and called out the torturing curse, making Harry collapse back to the floor with howls of agony. With that the entire party left the entrance hall. 

To Ron's utter amazement Harry pulled himself to his feet, though blood was pouring from his chest where he had been branded with the Blood Circle. His friend staggered across the entrance hall and gripping the banister rail began to run up the stairs. It was painful to watch him, slip and stagger up the stairs, leaving a trail of blood. 

Ron managed to build up his strength in a burst though as Harry reached the top of the stairs. He pulled himself to his feet and blinked hard as the blood rushed to his head. He could feel something wet in his hair and he reached back to find he was bleeding, he hadn't even realised he had dashed his head on the wall. 

He took a deep breath and staggered over to the stairs where Hermione was trying to pull herself up, tears of pain falling down her cheeks and cradling her broken arm. Ron pulled her to her feet and they steadied themselves on each other for a moment before by silent agreement they both made their way up the stairs. The path they had taken wasn't hard to follow, Harry had left a trail of blood. 

Stumbling, staggering and falling constantly they ran after Harry, Ginny and Voldemort to the sixth floor. Harry's trail led them along a south-facing gallery. Ahead they saw a doorway that certainly hadn't been there before, opposite the windows that looked out on the grounds. They reached the door and it was only by leaning on each other that they resisted collapse. But they gasped at what they saw beyond the large, red doors. 

Inside what by all rights ought to have been a narrow wall cavity was a huge chamber in white marble. Tall pillars held up the arched roof and there were dozens of torches on the walls behind them. At the far end though there was an altar with a beacon like fire blazing on it, resting on a golden bowl. The flames flickered, changing from colour to colour, red, blue, green and yellow. 

Standing on the floor in front of the altar was Voldemort his wand raised. At the centre of the chamber was Harry, who too had his wand raised. Ginny was lying against one of the pillars and Death Eaters were everywhere. Voldemort's lips moved and though they couldn't see him, they knew that Harry's did too. There was an almighty flash of blinding light and when Ron and Hermione had opened their eyes the door had disappeared and they were looking a blank wall.

"HARRY" screamed Hermione, throwing herself against the wall. 

Ron clawed at the stone and mortar, calling out for his best friend and little sister. He could feel his own blood seeping down his neck and Hermione's nose was beginning to bleed, her broken arm already causing her a lot pain, but she kept on trying to find the door. 

"Come on!" yelled someone, grabbing his arm.

Ron turned to see that too his amazement Draco Malfoy was trying to pull him away, "No! My friend and my sister are in there!"

"Yeah and there are dozens of Death Eaters out here!" snapped Malfoy. "If we don't get out of here then we'll be killed."

"Ron," said Hermione weakly, tears still running down her face. "We can't get to them."

"No! Harry and Ginny are in there," said Ron stubbornly.

"Look, Weasley, I risked my neck to drag you back down into the tunnels," snarled Malfoy. "But if you want to waste your life on Potter then by all means. But don't you think it's a bit of a waste to let yourself die when he would have obviously wanted you to live."

Ron was amazed, Malfoy was actually making sense. "We have to go, Ron," said Hermione, gulping heavily. 

He nodded and was dragged own the gallery by Malfoy to leave his best friend and little sister to an unknown fate. He turned back to his path though and set his mind to getting the others out alive and getting word to the Ministry. Harry would be alright, he always was and he would protect Ginny… But Ron remembered that pale, red-eyed face, so snake-like in appearance and he wondered if Harry would be so lucky this time. 

A/N: Aren't I cruel? Leaving you like that and all. Yeah you know Harry doesn't die, but what happens, hmm. And I hoped you Draco fans liked that bit of subtle Malfoy redemption there, my mum likes the character so I decided I ought to do something nice. If I had written the entire seventh year rather than just doing flashbacks to different times there'd have been more of that Draco-redemption stuff and it would have been more obvious too. I still haven't decided what happens to Draco yet though, so your suggestions there are always welcomed. 


	5. 

Chapter Five: 

Disclaimer: Surprisingly enough hardly any of these characters are mine, they all belong to some woman called J.K. Rowling, no idea who she is… 

Chapter Five: Fire Born 

__

Harry ran up the corridor, pain surging through his body as the Blood Circle continued the pain of the Cruciatus curse and made him bleed from his nose, mouth and chest, it was quite disgusting. Every old injury he had even had was causing him pain, the pain from every single broken bone he had sustained from Quidditch was re-running through his body. 

Once or twice as he ran he would stop, verging on collapse, but then that little voice at the back of his head screamed at him to continue. He couldn't leave Ginny with Voldemort and the Death Eaters. Voldemort had tortured Medea when she had been a child, he didn't want the same thing to happen to Ginny. He couldn't let Voldemort kill yet another innocent because of him either, his parents had been too many and then Cedric too, he couldn't let another die. 

So he kept running and was able to follow the sound of Ginny's screams that cut through him as badly as the relived pain from the Blood Circle. He staggered into a gallery and saw Voldemort standing at the centre, surrounded by his Death Eaters. He was holding his wand out and with an utter of words there was a flash and the wood began to creak and groan. 

Harry watched, pain almost forgotten, as the wood spread out and doors crept out of the wall. Voldemort swept through the doors and the Death Eaters followed, dragging a sobbing Ginny behind them. Harry set his jaw and walked down the gallery to stand in the entrance. 

"Let her go," he said. 

Voldemort spun around from the altar that he had been facing and a smile spread across his white features, "Why, Mr. Potter. I didn't think you would make it – I have underestimated you it seems... Come here then and we will complete this."

Harry stepped down the white steps and looked around the chamber. Death Eaters were everywhere and he could still here others in the castle. Ginny had been laid against a pillar unconscious. Harry resisted the urge to go and check if she was okay and faced Voldemort, though the pain in his scar burnt like nothing he had felt before. As Celea Leone had once pointed out to him, he was ludicrously stubborn when need be.

"You have lost, Harry," hissed Voldemort and raised his wand. "There is no need to stay."

Harry had to thank his reflexes that he saw Voldemort's curse coming and he seized his wand and at the top of his voice, though no sound came out at all, the disarming charm. For a second the universe appeared to stand still and he could hear everything and then suddenly there was a brilliant flash of light that engulfed everything and Harry distantly felt himself hit the floor. 

His eyes flickered open and he reached back to his head, which was thankfully not bleeding. As he pulled himself to his feet he felt something drop onto his nose and as he looked around in the gloom he saw that thousand of little sparks were falling from the air. As he reached out to catch a few and a beautiful, burning feather fell into his hand. Then he realised it – the wand cores had exploded. 

The spots began to disappear from his vision as the blood stopped rushing around his head and the sparks fell to the ground, still burning faintly. He looked around and saw everyone lying lifeless on the floor, their eyes dull and lifeless through their masks and then he spotted a shock of red in the gloom. He scrambled towards it and collapsed at Ginny's side. 

Harry picked up her head in his hands and looked into her dead eyes, without that spark of brilliance they had once had. She was cold and limp in his arms and he knew it was his fault. Voldemort had wanted to lure him here and he had used Ginny to do it for him. If he hadn't been Harry Potter than so many people wouldn't be dead: his mother, Cedric, Ginny.

"Do you know of your mother boy?" asked a cold harsh voice. 

Harry turned, still cradling Ginny's head, to see Voldemort standing before the altar. He still looked menacing dangerous and very much alive, he also had a wand in his hand. Harry down at the ash on the floor, the embers of his wand, and felt his heart sink further. After everything this was finally going to happen, so many people had died, and now it was going to be for absolutely nothing. 

"Can't you just die!" yelled Harry. "Isn't it enough that you ruined by life, killed my parents, killed Dumbledore…. Ginny."

"Do you know what your mother was, Harry?" insisted Voldemort. 

"Yes – I do," growled Harry. 

"Do you know that they can break curses naturally," said Voldemort. "That it is a natural instinct to break curses – no matter what curse it is."

"What's the point of this then? Are you going to tell me why you wanted to kill me at last?" snapped Harry. 

"No – not yet I don't think," said Voldemort. "This place though, if you at all interested, is the Hall of the Phoenix where the Founding Four left something for their descendants – immortality!," he said, his blood red eyes flashing. "A sacrifice is needed though, this is old magic, and I was going to use Miss. Weasley over there… You will do just as well though. I did have other plans for you, but this will do just as well…"

Harry found that he was getting to his feet now and it was a few moments before he realised he was under an Imperius curse. He shook it off without much effort and it occurred to him that Voldemort was weaker than he had been before. Voldemort glared at him and Harry smiled that manic grin of someone who has nothing left to lose. 

"You're weak!" snarled Harry. 

"Ah, but I will be powerful again," said Voldemort. 

Behind him on the altar the flame flared and then spread around the room until they were surrounded by flame. The fire was a thousand shades at once, but Harry could pick out four in particular and he knew them well from the Quidditch pitch: red, blue, green and yellow. Voldemort raised his wand once more and Harry suddenly remembered that he hadn't taken one from one of the fallen. 

"The heir of Gryffindor," snarled Voldemort. "I couldn't have had you or your father stealing this from the Founders… But you were more dangerous, Harry, you were like Dumbledore and I… You were from the third kind of magic and you weren't bound like the rest of us. You had broken the curse thanks to your mother's heritage…"

"There are only two kinds of magic and then the Muggles," said Harry, backing up until the flame scorched his back. "Witches and wizards and the natural magic from the Sidhe… There isn't a third kind – most people don't even know that the second still exists."

"No – you are wrong, Harry… But the third magic powers were bound in curses by the other two because they were stronger than the others were. The Dark Curse was the mistake though, we are an ingenious people and I learnt to draw power from it as others had feared to do in the past."

"You corrupted your power by drawing it from an ancient curse!" gasped Harry. 

"And when you were born the curse was not already on your head," said Voldemort with a laugh. "If it hadn't been for that you might have been useful to me, Potter. But as you did… Only one thing awaits you. It will not be long before your power reaches it's height and then it will be too late… But for now I am more powerful and you will fall…"

Harry fell back into the flame and screamed in agony – but then it stopped. Flame swirled around him, but it was perfectly painless and if anything it was making him feel better. He could feel the heat burning away him injuries and something else being burnt onto his back. Distantly he heard Voldemort scream and then he collapsed out of the flame. But the flame swirled around him like a cloak and held him up, making him feeling stronger and more powerful. 

At the back of his head he heard the voice more beautiful than words, "One life for eternal life – so the phoenix must rise above and complete the rite of ascension."

Harry reached out his hand to Voldemort as the Dark Lord backed away in terror. But the flame extended from his hand and gripped Voldemort's arm tightly before swirling up around his entire body. Voldemort screamed as so many of his victims had and then both collapsed to the floor. 

Harry pulled himself up onto his hands and knees and looked at his hands. Flame was dancing between his fingers and he could still feel the warmth, he knew that he could summon up his power too, power that Voldemort had spoken of. He looked over at Voldemort and crept over to him, but there wasn't much point, he already knew he was dead. 

As he sat there, trying to work out what he was to do, things came rushing back to him. He looked over to the pillar which Ginny lay crumpled against and he scrambled across the floor towards her. He knelt beside her and picked up her hand, still just as cold and white as before. Voldemort was dead, but another innocent had been killed because of him and any glory was forfeit. 

*****

Ginny sat at the counter in Flourish and Blotts flipping through _Witch's Weekly_. She was quite impressed this week, Hermione had put in a few new writers and their stories were surprisingly good. Having Hermione as chief editor at I.M.P. for _Witch's Weekly _as well as just for books had it benefits she had to admit, the magazine was far more coherent and interesting than it had been before. The fact that Hermione was also able to convince one of her best friends to appear in an issue every now and then couldn't be bad either, especially considering that he was Harry Potter.

The bell tinkled as the shop door opened. Ginny looked up to see who entered and was pleasantly surprised. The customer was an attractive man with a medium build, with tousled ash-blonde hair and glinting hazel eyes, Ginny though he looked incredible. She was in for another shock when none other than Harry Potter walked in after him. Ginny ducked her head back down and looked intently at her magazine. 

"So how many books?" asked Harry. 

"Erm," said the other man with a rustling of paper, Ginny glanced up to see him unfolding a scrap of parchment. "Well I need twenty – that not including the ones I'll need to get at Stellionmere and I'll maybe even need to go to Dracomon for some."

"And you can afford all these, Pag? I know you get paid peanuts when you take away your grant," said Harry. "No offence meant, mind you."

"None taken," said the man named Pag with a shrug. "But I managed to convince my the board to extend my grant to research materials. Just as long as I don't get caught eating at expensive restaurants I can usually always get an extension – now for the books. Hello, miss."

Ginny's head jerked up, suddenly realising he was addressing her, "Yes? Can I help you?" she asked, stopping her eyes veer off to meet Harry's. 

"Yeah, I need some books, but I think you might have to order a few of them. Do you stock these?" he asked and gave her the list he had been holding.

Ginny glanced down it and consulted the leather bound book under the counter, marking off the ones they had or could get before looking up, "I can get all of these for you, except _The Many Guises Of The Kelpie_. I'll have to order that from the publishers, but I can get it for you tomorrow."

"Thanks," said Pag. "Do I get the books myself or –"

"Come with me," said Ginny, smiling. 

She led both of the men through the shelves and found all the books Pag was looking for, passing them to him as she found the books. At one point she had to climb up a ladder to get a copy of _Racing Through The Ages: Granian Horses_, she over heard the conversation going on below.

"Do you know her, Harry?" asked Pag.

"You've met Ron – well that's his little sister," said Harry briefly.

"Oh, but why the cold shoulder then?" asked Pag. 

"Why indeed," muttered Ginny under her breath.

"Because," said Harry. "Some things are better left unknown."

"And some aren't," said Pag. 

"I'll see you back at the counter."

Harry walked off back to the counter and Ginny climbed down the ladder to give Pag the book. When she had found all of the books Pag had wanted they returned to the counter where she wrote an order form for _The Many Guises Of The Kelpie_. Harry, she noticed, was leafing through a copy of _Annwn and the Otherworlds_. 

There were hundreds of rumours about Harry's heritage. Some people said he was a descendant of Godric Gryffindor, though he could was a Parselmouth. There had been quite a widely spread rumour a few years ago that his mother's father had been a child of a Sidhe man. Ginny didn't believe either of them, or any of the other ones, but she had to admit it was rather interesting to see him reading about Annwn. 

When Harry was gone, carrying half of Pag's books, Ginny crept over to where he had been sitting and opened _Annwn and the Otherworlds_. It fell open at a page and she wondered if this was the one he had been looking at. It showed a woman in scarlet that matched the colour of her hair exactly and a huge, white hound was sitting at her feet. Ginny closed the book thoughtfully and slipped the book back onto the shelf. 

A/N: Shorter than the other chapters, I think, I really don't want to have to go back and check. You found out how Harry killed Voldemort and you got two more puzzles, ain't I cruel :: evil laughter:: So now you'll want to know why Ginny's alive now and who exactly Harry's mum is descended from. Annwn is pronounced "an'oon" if you're at all interested and Sidhe is pronounced "shee". Don't yell at me for mixing mythology here, but I've been through everything I could find and I couldn't find a collective term for people from the Otherworlds in Welsh mythology and there was only the Irish/Scot Sidhe I really liked. 

__


	6. 

Disclaimer: Basically the characters do not belong to me and if questioned I can produce documents to that effect – it'll have clauses, sub-clauses and I'll even initial it at the correct junctures and everything

Disclaimer: Basically the characters do not belong to me and if questioned I can produce documents to that effect – it'll have clauses, sub-clauses and I'll even initial it at the correct junctures and everything. 

A/N: ::looks sheepish:: I'm afraid I haven't thanked my reviewers yet and I would like to say I have taken your reviews to heart and they have influenced my writing, who knows where it might have gone without you lovely people. God bless you all!! ::blows kisses::

Chapter Six: Preunion 

__

Hermione, Ron and Harry climbed down the ladder in a dark claustrophobic tunnel. Apparently Hermione was discovering one of her chief fears besides failure, enclosed spaces. Ron wasn't exactly being comforting, but he obviously remembered how much she had teased him about his arachnophobia. 

"We're almoft at de bottom," Harry called up to his friends with his wand between his teeth to cast light as he climbed. 

"Maybe your mofther waf w'ong, 'Arry," said Ron, who also held his wand in his mouth. "Dis coul' be a dead end."

"Right that's it," said Hermione, beginning to climb back up.

"Come on, 'Ermione," said Ron, grabbing her ankle. "It'f not far."

Hermione sighed and they began to climb back down again. Harry glanced down into the gloom and took one hand off the ladder to wave his wand towards the bottom. There were barely a few metres away from the bottom, he took a few more steps down and jumped the rest of the way, landing in ankle deep water. 

Ron landed next to him and Hermione climbed down the ladder right to the bottom. Harry increased the beam on light from his wand and peered down the tunnel. It was cylindrical and it's stone walls were polished down as though a lot of water had once rushed through here. 

"Think sometimes there's still water down here?" asked Ron. 

"The journal said that there used to be a diverted river running through here that used to feed all of the water pipes in the castle," said Hermione. "But then they dredged out the lake and they could use that."

"Better than Hogwarts: A History _hey, Hermione," said Ron, grinning at her through the gloom._

"Which way, Harry?" asked Hermione, pointedly ignoring Ron. 

Harry pulled out the parchment he had written the directions down on and turned it around a few times before turning in to the right, "This way and we'll get to the Crystal Cavern."

"Off we go then," said Ron intrepidly walking forward. 

The three friends walked down the tunnel, their wands held before them to illuminate the passage. His mum hadn't written anything about any inhabitants, she would have done so if there were any. A little part of Harry was still reminding him that his mum had written her journal for about eighteen years and that anything could have found it's way down here. 

"How far away is the Crystal Cavern then?" asked Ron. 

"Well according to Harry's mum it's about two miles away," said Hermione.

"Should have brought brooms," muttered Ron. 

They walked for quite a long time before they began to here rushing water. Lily Evans had written about this too and had given specific instructions. They continued walking until they came out into a wider tunnel and at the centre was a fast flowing river, the occasional crest of white forming on it's surface. 

Harry felt along the wall and grabbed onto a large metal ring and felt the rust bite into his hands. He swung himself out, putting his wand between his teeth once more. Hermione came next as he caught the next ring and finally Ron. 

"Oh, easy," said Ron sarcastically.

"We fhould 'ave brought b'ooms," said Hermione. 

"Thank-you," said Ron. 

"Woul't 'ave worked," said Harry. "Dere's too mufch magical interferenfe down 'ere – appawently. My mum said dat 'Ogwarts if built on a interfection of Ley-Lines."

"You're founding like 'Ermione, 'Arry," said Ron. 

Harry felt his foot land on a ledge as he swung onto the next ring and he bent his head so his wand illuminated the ledge, it was the exit from the tunnel. He pulled himself onto it and pulled his wand from his mouth as he helped Hermione out of the tunnel too and then Ron. 

"Down there?" asked Hermione, indicating the steep stairs that had been cut from the rock and worn down with age. 

"I bet the Slytherins wouldn't go down here," said Ron as they descended into the darkness. "Or the Ravenclaws, or the Hufflepuffs… When it comes down to it it's more fun being a Gryffindor."

"There is a thin line between bravery and stupidity, Ron," said Hermione and Harry smiled into the darkness. 

"That's what Professor Faber says," said Ron. 

"Yes, she is a Gryffindor you know, you're allowed to insult your own house," said Hermione. 

"I thought you were allowed to insult other houses," said Harry. "I mean I bet the Ravenclaws think we're dead thick and the Hufflepuffs probably think we're foolhardy and I don't want to even think about what the Slytherins think of us."

"I suppose so," conceded Ron. 

They carried on talking as they walked down the steps, catching each other when they slipped and trying not to imagine what horrors might lie at the bottom of the stairs now. When they reached the bottom of the stairs though they stopped talking immediately and simply gaped. 

The Crystal Cavern was simply beautiful. The underground river they had climbed over came out into the cavern as a thundering waterfall, falling over the smoothed rocks. There was another river that entered the cavern too though and while one was tinted green with the limestone tunnels it passed through the second was red from the iron in the mountains. Red and green water crashed over the rocks and swirled together in the pool at the centre to great effect.

"Wow," said Ron, the first to speak. 

"It's beautiful," said Hermione. "You can tell who made this place too…"

"Slytherin and Gryffindor," said Harry. 

"Maybe this was one of the only thing they did together," said Hermione.

"Although I hate to disrespect the memories of the two of the founders of our school – last one in's a troll!!" said Ron. 

All three kicked off their shoes and socks and pulled off their robes as quickly before plunging into the cool, mountain water. With shrieks and shouts they splashed around and dived down to the bottom, ducked each other under the water and jumped off the rocks. And when they realised it was six o'clock and they had classes in two hours they ran as fast as they could back the way they had come, promising each other that they would come back here again. 

*****

Harry stepped out of the bathroom and tried to remember a spell to dry his hair before he got dressed. He gave up after a few minutes and just towelled himself down in the Muggle way. His two dress robes had been laid out on his bed and Trivia was circling his dragon hide boots suspiciously. 

"Black or green, Trivia?" asked Harry, putting his boots down on the floor. 

"Either would be wonderful," said Trivia's middle head. 

"It is entirely your decision, Harry," said the left head. "I would personally chose the black robe though."

"The green robe matches your eyes, but Gabrielle is going in white and you will both look terrible if you were wearing green. The cut doesn't suit you either, it doesn't have any tailored flair in it that a good dress robe ought to have. Sadly your green eyes are your main feature and wearing a black robe would bring them out a little better, even if all the trouble is for nothing… And don't wear contact lenses – they make you look like a deer caught in the head-lights."

Harry smiled and began to get changed. There was a knock at the door and Gabrielle entered. Apparently she, nor her sister Harry had learnt, had never quite understood the idea of privacy. Harry had once spent a month with both of the Delacour sisters and had eventually resorted to putting a chair up against the door when he wanted a bit of privacy. Eventually Harry had become used to it and was quite okay with Gabrielle walking in on him at any time she pleased. 

"Where did you get zat?" asked Gabrielle, sitting down on his bed. 

"Get what?" asked Harry, putting on his wristwatch. 

"Ze tattoo," said Gabrielle. "On your back."

Harry absently touched his back and thoughtfully picked up his black robe, "It just sort of happened…."

The tattoo was of a phoenix with it's wings spread across his back, more of a symbol than an actually image of a phoenix really. What particularly fascinated people about it though was not how he had got it, but why it changed colour and what the colours represented. At the moment it was flickering like living flame in a pale yellow tinged with blue at the feather tips.

"What is eet really, 'Arry?" asked Gabrielle. 

Harry pulled his robes on over his head and Gabrielle didn't see the yellow flame turn green very slightly, "It is a symbol of something I had to give up a long time ago so that everything else in life wouldn't be forfeited… Unfortunately, in the end, I wasn't entirely sure if it was worth it – but anyway!" he added brightly, "it's all in the past now… Are you ready?"

"Yes," said Gabrielle, getting to her feet. 

Harry looked at her properly for the first time and smiled broadly. She was a vision in white and gold, her long blonde hair flowing down her back in waves and absolutely perfect. There were a few occasions when Harry wondered if he ought to be in love with Gabrielle and this was one of them, but it was quickly dismissed as being a little too easy. Gabrielle and he clicked perfectly as friends and he knew it would never work if they were in anything other than an entirely platonic relationship. 

"You are beautiful," said Harry matter-of-factly, smiling at her. 

"Thank-you," said Gabrielle, kissing his cheek. 

"When are we going then?" asked Trivia's left head. 

Harry looked over Gabrielle's shoulder and laughed, "_You_ aren't going anywhere, Trivia."

"What do you mean?" demanded the right head. "You'll ruin things without us – you always do. You are a complete incompetent when it comes to social occasions without us hissing in your ear."

"This is a formal Ball," said Harry firmly. "It won't look too good if I walk in with a seven foot long, three headed snake."

"Prejudice," snapped the right head. 

"No – common courtesy, you'll scare the other guests," said Harry. "You're staying here. It's not like you'll be alone either – Pag's here."

"Ha! The Mad Magizoologist!" sneered the right head. 

"We are going with you, Harry," said the left head. 

"Just imagine the Ball; the dancers, the flirting, the gossip, the music! Oh, Harry, please let us come," cried the middle head. 

"No way," said Harry, setting his jaw. 

"You're embarrassed of us aren't you," said the left head. "It's not like you have such a select group of friends you know, we're the cream of the crop!"

"No, Trivia, you're staying here."

Harry took Gabrielle's hand and led her out of the room, shutting the door with a definite snap. Gabrielle gave him an odd look as they walked down the corridor and then down the stairs into the vestibule. 

"What was zat about, 'Arry?" she asked. 

"Nothing," said Harry, rolling his eyes with a sigh. "Shall we?"

Gabrielle smiled at him and they both disapparated from the vestibule with a resounding _POP!_

*****

"I wonder if Snape still hates us," thought Ron out loud. 

"Probably," said Hermione. 

The couple turned to look down the street to see if anyone else had arrived. They had all agreed before they can come that they would meet up together on the main street in Hogsmeade. Ginny and her boyfriend, Jonathon Murray, were sitting a little further down the street on a wall while they waited for the rest of their party. 

"Why does Snape hate you guys?" asked Jonathon as he and Ginny joined the older couple. 

"Pardon?" asked Ron. 

"Well you're always saying that Snape hates you –"

"Harry," corrected Hermione. "He hates Harry, he just dislikes us."

"Yeah, but why?" asked Jonathon. 

"Have you ever heard about Harry's grandfather?" asked Ron, looking down the street. 

"Yeah – first class Chaser. Tristan Potter was one of the greatest Chasers England ever had," said Jonathon and Ginny winced at the less than subtle compliment to the Potter family. 

"Well he may have been an excellent Quidditch player, but he was a bit of a –" said Ron slowly before he was cut off. 

"A womanising bastard," said Harry, apparating next to Ron and making him jump. 

"Damnit, Harry!" said Ron, recovering. "Give me a little warning next time."

"Sorry, Ron," said Harry, looking around. "Are we the only ones or have the others gone up to the castle and left you lot down here?"

"Fred and Angelina haven't arrive yet," said Hermione. "But the others are already up at the castle."

"A nice reunion – more of a preunion of course," said Harry and then suddenly remembered the gorgeous young woman standing next to him, "You remember Gabrielle don't you?"

"Nice to see you again," said Hermione, shaking her hand. 

"Eet is a pleasure to see you again, 'Ermione," said Gabrielle with a smile. "But I do not zink I 'ave met you," she said, addressing Jonathon. 

"Er – no, Jonathon Murray, nice to meet you," said Jonathon, who was gazing at Harry with a mixture of awe and fear. 

"'Ave you not met 'Arry before eizzer?" asked Gabrielle. 

"No," said Jonathon. 

Harry turned his gaze from up the street to Jonathon and pinned him there, muttering a vague greeting. It had occurred to Hermione that perhaps Harry didn't realise his eyes could hold someone to the spot like that and that if you looked into them you could sometimes feel as though as you about to fall. At some moments it was fairly obvious that Harry knew everything there was to be known, at others he looked entirely naive of what he was capable of. 

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen," said Fred, apparating with Angelina at the centre of the group. "Shall we be going?"

Hermione and Angelina rolled their eyes and all of the couples set off up the road towards the castle. Ginny and Jonathon were walking in silence while Jonathon gazed at Gabrielle and Harry, a beautiful French Seeker and one of the best Seekers in the world together, it was quite a sight. Fred and Ron were walking at the front talking about who George had brought and Hermione was left talking to Angelina. She would have killed to be good enough at French to understand what Harry and Gabrielle were saying though, but they were talking far to fast for her rather patchy grasp of French. 

"'Arry tells me zat zere will a woman at ze Ball," said Gabrielle, appearing at her side. "A Sabine Cisseus, do you know 'er as anyzing ozzer zan ze German Seeker?"

Hermione and Angelina both smiled, "Oh yes," said Hermione. 

"Very much so," said Angelina with a smile.

"She was Harry's first love," said Hermione, smiling. "They met on Dracomon Quidditch pitch, she complemented him and he fell off his broom with surprise. I think they were together all through their sixth year and right up to just before Easter in their seventh… Actually they were a really nice couple, it's a shame they broke up, but they did it on pretty amiable terms and they're still friends."

"'Ow could zat 'ave been so?" asked Gabrielle. "Zey would 'ave been at different schools would zey not? Ze German school is a Efeuburg, no?"

"Yeah well Harry was already on the England team wasn't he," said Angelina. "They saw him fly during the tournament and snapped him up like that. So he was always off at a practise session and England were touring Germany, so he got to see a lot of her."

"I'm surprised he passed his N.E.W.T.s," said Hemione, shaking her head. 

"'Arry got a lot of zese N.E.W.T.s as I 'ave been told," said Gabrielle. 

"Oh yeah," said Angelina, smiling. "He studied in the Quidditch stadiums_ and _practised… I was amazed he managed it. Course he didn't get as many as he could have done, but he only wanted a Quidditch career and you don't need two dozen N.E.W.T.s for that."

They arrived at the main doors to Hogwarts and found they had been surrounded with waves of white flowers, each holding a little fairy, who flitted between the flowers visiting each other. It was quite beautiful and brought back Hermione's most pleasant memories of the seven years she had spent at Hogwarts. 

"Hello, sweety," said the only woman in the world who could get away with calling Harry Potter "sweety". 

Harry hopped up the stairs and embraced Medea McKinnon tightly before allowing her to comment on him, still smiling. Hermione rather liked Medea and after all Harry adored her. Medea was just so likeable, men loved her and women were in awe of her, Hermione couldn't help but like her.

"Remus and Lyca are here," said Medea with a smile. "And Brizo has dragged my dear brother out of his office. The kids are all back home, except Mnemosyne, she's up in Gryffindor Tower, you can nip up later and see her if you like…. Come on now you lot."

The group surrendered quite willingly to the Potions Mistress and followed her obediently inside. Hermione took Ron's arm as they entered the great hall, which was beautiful. The House-Elves had obviously been working very hard and Hermione had a suspicion that some of the students had been roped into helping out. 

The long house table had disappeared and in their place were round tables where a party of people could sit and talk. An enchanted orchestra was playing on a stage at the top of the hall and some couples were already dancing beneath a canopy of flowers and sparkling leaves. It looked magical and no doubt was. 

*****

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The school was buzzing with rumours about the new Potions Professor, they had seen her before once or twice talking with Professor Snape in the Potions dungeon or walking with Professor Dumbledore in the grounds, but they had never strictly met her. Harry had, of course, and he had told Ron and Hermione quite a bit about Medea, but they were both keen to meet her for themselves. 

"My father has told me a lot about her," Malfoy was telling his fellow Slytherins. "Basically her mother used to sleep with Dark Wizards to gather information on them. Of course none of them were stupid enough to reveal anything, but I'm sure she's a slut just like her mother."

"She looks like one," said Pansy Parkinson. "She was actually wearing jeans_, aren't professors meant to be setting us an example/ And there were stained and all tattered, can't she afford decent clothing!"_

"Her family are poor Purebloods," said Malfoy. "There's nothing worse than a poor Pureblood., am I right, Weasley."

Hermione and Harry both grabbed Ron by the back of his robes. Malfoy grinned at him and continued with his insults about Professor McKinnon, "She's the bastard of a Death Eater and unfortunately she takes after her mother. They killed all of the McKinnons in the end of course, the first family they killed. She was tortured and left for dead, Dumbledore must feel sorry for her – she can't be much of a professor."

"Really? Why not?" 

Hermione had no idea how Medea had entered the dungeon or indeed how she had come up right behind Malfoy without him knowing it, but there she was and it was hilarious. Malfoy turned white as a sheet as the woman known through out the magical community as being very aggressive, even if they knew nothing else of her. 

"You were just saying I am going to be a bad professor, Mr. Malfoy," she said with a smile that Hermione had seen once before in an aquarium. 

"I – I," stuttered Malfoy. 

"Was just about to suggest I talk with your house-master?" said Medea with the sort of smile the Wildebeest dreaded. "What _a good idea. Thank-you for suggesting that, Mr. Malfoy. Would you care to speculate on which particular Death Eater I am the child of now? No? Well then perhaps we ought to begin with class then."_

Hermione watched Professor McKinnon walk to the front of the class and then turn to give them all a real smile. She was, Hermione now realised, one of those women who were perfectly proportioned. One could actually imagine her conception involving mathematics at some stage. But you didn't realise it because of the way she walked and held herself.

McKinnon stalked around the classroom as though she were expecting attack or indeed about to attack. Fight or flee, Medea looked permanently poised to do either. It was the oddest way of moving and Hermione couldn't place why exactly it was so familiar. 

A/N: The Ball will continue in the next chapter and I think we'll meet Celea Leone again, but I haven't decided yet so don't hold me to that. The first flashback was because I thought I ought to familiarise you all with the tunnels under the school since I mentioned them in Chapter Four (_Fallen Defenders_). And please review my story after you've read this, constructive criticism and advice will always make me rethink the direction of my story J

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	7. Faeries and Dragon-Hide

Chapter Seven:

Disclaimer: J.K.R. owns pretty much everything except for a few characters and the plot. 

Chapter Seven: Faeries and Dragon-Hide 

Harry sat at a table watching Gabrielle dance with the England Keeper, a Robbie "Justin" Time, a long time friend of his who had been with him when he was playing Quidditch in France. That had been years ago when Gabrielle had been a young teenager though, Justin had been rather surprised to find that she had grown up. 

Lyca Lupin approached his table and sat down, giving him a warm smile, "Hello, Harry," she said in perfect English, but with her rather heavy Italian accent. "Looking for a certain German Seeker?"

"Actually I'm looking for a number of people," said Harry, peering around the dancing couples. 

"Well Sabine Cisseus and the rest of the German team aren't meant to be arriving for another half an hour," said Lyca. "I just heard it from McGonagall and Snape."

"Celea Leone?" asked Harry. 

"Fashionably late no doubt," said Lyca. 

"Okay then –how are you?" asked Harry, with a smile. 

Lyca smiled back at him, "Well I've just had the most fascinating conversation with that friend of yours, Ron, about Auror tactics and various curses employed, comparably."

"Sounds incredibly interesting," said Harry with a sigh. 

Lyca laughed, "Why don't you go and dance with someone, Harry."

"You want to?" he asked. 

"Me?"

"Yeah, you look alright – got all your teeth I see," said Harry sarcastically. 

"Quite an accomplishment for an Auror I assure you, Harry," said Lyca still chuckling. "Why don't you ask the girl in red, Ron's little sister. Oh, what's her name – Ginny Weasley,"

Harry's face darkened slightly and he shook his head, "No," he said softly. "I can't dance with her."

Lyca gave him a sad look, "Why, Harry? She's a lovely girl. Remus told me you used to really like her."

"It's a long story," said Harry. 

Before Lyca could ask him what exactly this long story was he spotted Sabine Cisseus entering the hall, just as a song stopped. Harry suspected that Sabine timed her entrances for maximum effect, if not she had incredible luck. One day he would catch her hanging around outside waiting to make the perfect entrance. Everyone turned to see her walk in and the hall was fill was the buzz of whispers. 

Sabine's rather exotic dress sense hadn't altered much since Harry had known her and tonight's robe was a testament to that. Her robe probably a robe by technicality, and her robe-maker was probably very talented and just as daring as Sabine. The robe was made of dragon hide, the soft under belly scale of a Swedish Short-Snout cut on a bias – if that was possible with dragon hide – and low at the front and back. Strips of dragon skin from the shoulders curled tightly around her arms, making it technically a robe. Filling her long black hair were thousands of tiny silver stars to match the silver-blue of her robe and the long robe that was gathered elegantly at her shoulders had been enchanted to show a frosty, crescent mooned night. 

"You're beautiful as ever," said Harry as they reached each other. 

"De same goes for you, Harry," said Sabine, smiling at him. 

With a laugh from both of them Harry swept her up into his arms and kissed her, even if it was rather chaste the rumours would be flying tomorrow. As he let her go the orchestra struck up again and Harry quite willingly joined the dancing with Sabine. 

"Got a little silver lippy there, Harry," said Ron as he twirled past with Hermione. "Nice to see you again, Sabine."

"Yeah, I hope you can come back with us after the Ball," said Hermione. 

"I voot love too," said Sabine, with a smile. "Dis is vonderful… I have dinner reservations alreaty."

Hermione and Ron danced on and Harry spun Sabine, bringing her gently back into his arms, "It's amazing how much we can change in a few years…" commented Harry. 

"Ah, Harry," said Sabine, giving him a smile. "Ve have not datet since ve vere still teenagers, do not be startink dis again."

"You're right," said Harry. "You were always right."

"Of course!" laughed Sabine, kissing him briefly again. 

"I can see the articles," said Harry. "German Girl Gets Gorgeous – something else beginning with 'G'…"

Sabine laughed her beautiful musical laughter again, "You alvays mate me laugh, Harry… I am still thinkink dat breakink up vas for de best though… I do not vish –"

"To start this again," cut off Harry. "Neither do I – but I do want to dance with you. Can you still swing dance, I remember the fun we had when I was playing in Germany."

"I voot, but my dress," said Sabine, giving him a weak smile. 

"Always were very adventurous when it came to your robes weren't you," said Harry. "Stretching the actual term 'robe' as far as possible at all times, hmm."

"Thank-you… I have alvays triet."

"Indeed," said Harry. 

Sabine gave him a playful glare and they continued to sweep around the hall, quite a striking couple if they actually realised it. Neither of them did, they never did. Harry had fallen in love with Sabine in the first place because she didn't know she was so incredible and Sabine had fallen for Harry for exactly the same reasons. 

*****

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"Ginny," wept Harry. "I didn't mean for this to happen… You shouldn't have died like this – you shouldn't have died at all!"

His tears fell onto her face and mingled with the droplets of his blood that were falling onto her too. She looked up at him blankly with her once bright brown eyes missing their spark. He ran his forefinger over her long, soft lashes and let his face drop into her robes. 

"Poor girl – so young," said a soft, musical voice. 

Harry's head jerked up and he came face to face with an ancient looking man, leaning heavily on a hard staff of ash, bound with leather. It took a few moments for Harry to realise through his grief that he knew this man, and he was not at all welcome here. 

"You can't, Arawn," choked Harry softly.

"I have not come for her, Harry," the old man assured him. "You broke Voldemort's wand and released all of the spirits, I have come for them… They deserve to be allowed to the Otherworld now." 

"But she's dead," said Harry. "Aren't you going to take her?"

"No," said Arawn, shaking his head. "Lily would never forgive me if I took her from you…"

"You'll bring her back?" asked Harry, eyeing the staff Arawn held, he knew it's power. 

"I cannot bring someone back after they have been cursed in such a manner," said Arawn. "But you may be able to… She is not quite dead yet, her soul is yet to flee her body. Come, Harry, we must see what we can do for you."

Arawn rose to his feet and Harry recalled what a heavily built man he was, with broad shoulders and a deep chest. Harry picked up Ginny's limp form and looked sadly down at her pale features. He looked back up at Arawn, who gave him a pleasant smile. 

"Isn't my grandfather going to be angry with you for doing this?" asked Harry. 

"Beli can go hang," snapped Arawn. "He was stupid enough to let his daughter go and live with the Muggles and he couldn't convince Dumbledore to let you stay in Annwn when you were a baby. He knows nought about the dead and he can't tell me what to do."

Harry smiled at his Great Uncle, at least someone in Annwn was on his side. He was going to save Ginny and everything was going to be alright again. As Arawn hit his staff on the flags and Harry saw everything go white and wind rush him by he suddenly felt a lot better, a weight had been lifted from him… But how was he going to bring Ginny back? 

*****

Ginny allowed Jonathon to twirl her and looked over at Harry and Sabine. She had watched them both through her fifth and sixth years, they had hardly been joined at the hip as that was impossible, but it had always seemed like they were the perfect couple. They were matched perfectly for each other. 

Sabine was beautiful, her body was as perfectly sculpted as her Quidditch skills. She was also as intelligent and witty as any Ravenclaw. She was always rather independent, that suited Harry of course, because he was too. She also was immensely fun loving and had an uncanny ability to bring Harry out of his shell. After what had happen in Harry's fourth and fifth year she had been just what Harry needed. Added to all that she obviously adored Harry. 

Harry was gorgeous, even outside Ginny's rather biased opinion. Slightly tanned with his black, shoulder length hair that developed copper highlights in the sun and those fathomless green eyes. He was also widely rumoured to be worth a fortune, he had earned an absolute fortune from playing Quidditch for various teams, Ginny knew that for sure, she had caught a glimpse at his pay cheque once. And he could make Sabine laugh and had a fantastic time with her every time they met without fail.

What made it all so much more annoying was that Ginny couldn't dislike Sabine at all. Even when Sabine and Harry had been seeing more of each other and Harry let his friends from Hogwarts slip a bit, Ginny had liked her and it was incredibly irritating. She owed most of her intelligence about Harry from Sabine as well, even Hermione had listened to some of that information. Fred and George, who had somehow found out what Sabine had said, had teased Harry for days. 

"How do you think he does it?" asked Jonathon. 

"Sorry?" asked Ginny, suddenly becoming aware that she hadn't being paying any attention to her own boyfriend. 

"Harry Potter, he brought one gorgeous girl and now he's got another one who looks as though she'd die for him," said Jonathon. "Look at the faces of all those single women – they look about ready to kill that woman."

Ginny smiled, "Well no-one stands a chance against Sabine Cisseus," she explained. "She was Harry's first girlfriend and everyone knows Harry will be in love with her forever."

"Why'd he break up with her then?"

"Nobody knows, it's one of the mysteries of Harry Potter, I suppose," said Ginny. 

"Well I'm lucky I've got you," said Jonathon, kissing her. 

*****

"May I?" asked Justin. 

"Certainly," said Harry, swapping partners with his friend. 

"I shall see you later, Harry," said Sabine. 

Gabrielle grinned at him as he took her in his arms and he raised an eyebrow at her, "What?"

"You look very 'appy," said Gabrielle, grinning at him. "I 'ave never seen you looking so 'appy, 'Arry."

"Well I am happy, Elle. I've got you," he said, kissing her nose, "I've got my other friends, I have just been dancing with an old friend, renewing a friendship, and everyone I know is wonderfully happy. If that's not a good reason to be happy then I don't know what is."

Gabrielle smiled at him sweetly, "I do not zink you 'ave everyzing yet, 'Arry – I should keep going."

"Pick one at random, hmm, Elle?" asked Harry. 

"Per'aps close your eyes and zen point," offered Gabrielle. 

"No – that's how my mum picked my name and if they hadn't changed it from Ari to Harry, who knows what I might have been called."

"Bel," said Gabrielle, pressing her face into his shoulder, shaking with silent laughter. 

"It was my grandfather's name," said Harry. "And it's not funny."

"Okay eet is not funny," conceded Gabrielle, giving him a mock serious look, which Harry returned with a glare. 

"May I cut in?" asked Lavender Brown, smiling at Harry beautifully. 

"Of course," said Gabrielle and Harry gave her another glare. 

He was left dancing with Lavender and it was much slower than with Gabrielle or Sabine. Apparently Lavender had thought extraordinarily high heels would be just the thing to wear to a Ball where dancing figured largely in the events. Harry couldn't' say he enjoyed the conversation too much either, he would much have preferred to be dancing with Gabrielle, Hermione or Sabine and quite happily with Medea, Lyca and Brizo. 

"So you're playing Seeker for England again," said Lavender. "Poor, Ginny, her boyfriend won't get a look in will he."

"I've seen him fly – he's alright. And it's not as though I'm going to be flying in every single match," said Harry, rather tense on the subject of anything to do with Ginny. 

"And who are you going to be playing for when the new Quidditch season starts? All of the teams are fighting over you, I hear."

"I haven't decided yet," said Harry. "I mean I have the entire Tournament to decide… In the end I might well go back to flying abroad."

"Parvati said she met you in Italy and you spoke Italian like a native," said Lavender, smiling at him. 

"A bit of an over exaggeration, but I did study and I spent a lot of time living there with the Lupins," said Harry, smiling weakly back at her. 

The dance ended at that moment and Harry was gratefully rescued by Brizo, who grinned at him broadly and gave Parvati a rather mocking curtsey. "Thank-you," whispered Harry. 

"Don't mention it," said Brizo. "You were always my best student and James would have wanted me to rescue you from the horrors of being the most eligible bachelor at a Ball… And Sirius and Remus asked me to do it," she admitted. 

"Well thank-you. But isn't this going to annoy your husband though?" he asked, glancing over at Snape who was talking with a few former students.

"I _was _one of your father's friends, you know, Harry." Said Brizo. "Now _that_ annoys him, but I think he'll let me dance with you."

"Really? I was looking forward to annoying Snape," said Harry, pretending to be disappointed.

"He only stands it now because his sister or I would kill him if he lost his temper with you," said Brizo. 

"Ah, but if it wasn't for me annoying him you would have never come back to England to calm him down after my third year and Mnemosyne would not exist… Let's drop that there though, shall we, I don't want _that _image in my head. Shame you didn't tell him Memo was his until my seventh year – he might have been nicer to me if he knew that the detention I got in my fifth year involved me looking after his daughter, _and _being good at it."

Brizo laughed, "She liked the story about the Chamber of Secrets the best as I recall – wouldn't go to sleep without hearing ''bout de really big an' nasty snake dat tried to eat 'Arry'."

"Scarred her for life that," said Harry. 

"No doubt about it, Harry," chuckled Brizo.

*****

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Harry sat by the window in Medea McKinnon's office. She had chosen not to take Snape's old office and had found a large old room in one of the southern towers. She had done a good job renovating it, enlarging the tiny window to a huge size and putting a comfortable leather sofa against one wall. After sealing up all the cracks and casting a few spells on the crumbling plaster she had covered the walls with photographs of various people, including one of Harry from when he had won the Inter-School Quidditch cup for Hogwarts in his sixth year.

"Hello, Harry, how was your day?" asked Medea, entering her office and flopping down on the sofa. 

"Obviously better than yours," said Harry, grinning at her. 

She laughed weakly, "I'm getting old, you know."

"You're not that old, Medea," Harry assured her. 

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Harry," Medea told him. "Now what brings you all the way up here? The idea of having my office up a long flight of stairs is to deter students from coming up…"

"I wanted to ask you about my parents," said Harry. 

"Always a pleasure," said Medea. "Please continue."

"I know that you and my mum never really knew my dad until later on in school, 'cause you were a year younger than him, Sirius, Lupin, Brizo and Ari. But how come when I asked Sirius why Snape hated my dad he said it was because of you and my mum… He didn't tell me anything else."

"Come here, lad," said Medea, patted the sofa next to her and Harry obediently went and sat. "My grandmother, Harry, was Professor Dumbledore's niece and she married my grandfather and they and their children, among them my mother, all worked for him gathering intelligence on Voldemort as he was gathering strength… My mother was the ideal of a Gryffindor, unfortunately she had no Ravenclaw tendencies in her and when she fell for one of Voldemort's supporters she wasn't too smart about it. There's no need to go into what exactly happen, because I myself never really knew. Suffice to say I was conceived, but before my mother had me her brother, my uncle, took her back to McKinnon Castle and after I was born she continued to work as a spy for Dumbledore. 

"And now we get to the other part that was going on at the same time. Your family, Harry, as you no doubt know already, were superb Quidditch players, born and bred that way. And your grandfather was no exception, he played for England as a Chaser and was a bloody good one at that. However, he may have been an excellent Chaser, but he was a womaniser and during the long tours away from England he wasn't entirely faithful to your grandmother. Eventually he left your grandmother for his mistress, also married. 

"This mistress was married to my mother's Death Eater and together they were of course the well-known and socially recognised Snapes, Sophassa and Sparsus," said Medea and grinned. "I always thought that the triple 'S' was really funny when I was a kid."

Harry gaped at her, "That's why Snape hates me? Because my grandfather took his mother away from him when he was small?"

"Well then there was your father," continued Medea. "Here is Severus, poor Sev, brought up to hate the man who took his mother away from him and the wife from his father. And then he arrives at Hogwarts and whom does he meet but James Potter, the son of the man that took his mother from him and deprived him of all of her comfort and affection. They were rivals from then on and then I came to Hogwarts next year and Sparsus had told his son to look after me, I think in some twisted way Sparsus really did love my mother you know. But, shock horror, I was put into Gryffindor and made friends with your mother there.

"We soon met the Marauders and Brizo, Ari and Leah – shame about Leah, you never even met her – and we were in awe of them. James Potter and Sirius Black were gods, simple as that. Severus hated that, seeing his little sister in awe of the boy he hated. In his eyes James was taking his little sister from him too and when he saw that James flew just like his father it rather strengthened his conviction that James was going to take me.

"That wasn't true of course, but he was rather screwed up. Whenever James did pay any attention to me it had some how involved your mother and it was really Sirius and Remus who talked to us at all. James Potter was nether the less a divine being, the rest of the girls in school agreed with us.

"While we were at school Voldemort was gaining power, but you know that don't you, and Snape was picked to be a Death Eater because of his father, who was by this point dead. He tried to convince me to join him too, but it didn't work, I had been corrupted _by James Potter after all… Damn, even when James married Lily he was certain he had stolen me from him, bit stupid really."_

"That's what it was all about?" asked Harry. "Snape was trying to get a girl who my dad wasn't even interested in? That's why he tried to get my dad and the others expelled?"

"Yep," said Medea with a chuckle. "He was a daft lad…. But now you know why Sirius tried to kill him don't you…"

"Er – why?" asked Harry, not understanding this bit at all. 

Medea grinned sleepily and patted his shoulder, "Because the poor boy was in love with me!"

"That's it?" asked Harry. "They were all fighting over you and my dad didn't even realise it?"

"Well in the end, yeah," said Medea. "That's why he dragged Snape out of the Shrieking Shack and wasn't as mean to him as Sirius. He tried to tell Sev that he didn't want me at all."

"Well… Thanks, you always tell me things when I ask," said Harry, smiling at her. 

"But in the end you know what, Harry," said Medea as he got up. "I _corrupted Severus and turned him to our side! He never even saw it coming."_

Harry smiled at Medea's rather twisted sense of humour and left her office. As he walked back down the winding stairs he mused over how stupid people really could be. He hoped he would never be stupid enough to be angry at someone for something they had had no part in and no control over. 

REALLY LONG A/N: That took me a surprisingly long time to write, I had the idea of why Snape hated the Potters in my head, but I wasn't entirely sure how to write it down. The way I wrote this is far better than some of the other ideas I had for it, I thought a sleepy Medea who isn't entirely sure what she was saying would go down well. 

And I normally don't go into long clothing descriptions, but I had Sabine's robe in my mind and I wanted to get the idea across to you guys. Lyca is Remus Lupin's wife if you haven't guessed by the way and Brizo is Snape's – I'm afraid I thought the greasy, big nosed git deserved to be happy. I'm not entirely sure what Remus does for a living and I have no idea what Brizo, who I'm saying was the DADA professor in Harry's fifth year, works as, so suggestions are welcomed. 

Finally I have to admit that I will be corrupting mythology in future chapters. I don't have any decent books on Welsh myth so I'm improvising with other Celtic stuff and taking some of the characters from the Classical myths. If you're studying Celtic myth or something like that don't yell at me and just remember that I am managing to stick to the Harry Potter books very well, if not ancient myths passed down the generations. Bards will no doubt me spinning in their graves by the end of my story. 

Thanks to my lovely reviewers and curses to the luck that put my last chapter on the fifth page or something. Hopefully this time I'll be on the first page ::crosses fingers:: 

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	8. The Great Queen

Chapter Eight: 

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine blah, blah, blah… 

Chapter Eight: The Great Queen

The guests sat around at their tables chatting as they ordered their food from the menus at each of their places. Ginny had her father and her boyfriend either side and sitting across from her was Hermione and her brothers, except for Percy who was talking with her father. A few tables away sat Harry and the rest of the England team and their respective dates. 

"In a few minutes he'll go and sit with Sirius and the others," said Charlie, seeing where she was looking and making her blush. "What'd say, Bill?"

"Definitely," said Bill. "Do you think the chicken looks good?"

"You're not having chicken are you?" asked Fred. 

"There's enough for us all, Fred," said Angelina rolling her eyes. 

"Yes, my dear, but I always have to be different, don'tcheknow."

Angelina sighed and returned to ordering her own meal. Ginny often wondered why Angelina had stayed with Fred, she was a beautiful woman and she had have had anyone she wanted. Hermione would say that "love was a strange thing" whenever she voiced her opinion on this, indeed it must be for an intelligent woman like Hermione to fall for Ron of all people. 

Ginny had no other female friends besides Hermione though, she didn't seem able to get along with them. She was friends with lots of men, but when it came to women she tended to get their backs up. Hermione had assured her that it came from growing up with so many brothers and she just had a different out-look to women who had not had that experience. 

"There he goes," said George, watching Harry walk across the hall and sit at his godfather's table. 

"Well it's not surprising, dear," said Mrs. Weasley. "He hardly ever gets to see Sirius and Medea because he's travelling so much all the time."

"Comes home every Christmas," pointed out Ron, his voice slightly muffled as he sipped from his glass. 

"Drink it first, Ronald," chided Mrs. Weasley. 

"I'll go over when the dinner's over," said Hermione. "I've been meaning to talk to Lyca, I haven't had half a chance yet."

"I always thought it was odd that Remus Lupin married an Auror, especially the chief Auror in Italy of all things, what him being a we –" started Percy. 

"I don't think we should really go into that at the dinner table," said Mrs. Weasley quickly.

The dinner was quite nice and it 's pleasantness of only lessened when Percy was called upon to make a few rather pompous speeches as the Minster of Magic. Fred and George did lighten it up a lot with their commentary through-out, but Ginny got the impression that Jonathon didn't find it all funny. 

After dessert and great stacks of biscuits and an assorted collection of cheeses appeared on everyone's table the guests began to dart between the tables talking to each other and exchanging news of what so and so had said to so and so during the meal. Fred and George were definitely having too much fun gossiping to the other guests, Jonathon was particularly disgusted that they were just making things up.

When Harry Potter strode over to their table, every single, female eye upon him Ginny quickly averted her attention to the piece of Stilton she had just cut for herself. "Justin, Elle, Sabine and me are going to go out to a bar – carrying on the party while those of lessened stamina toddle along home – want to come?"

"Sure," said George. 

"Love to, my boy," said Fred, promptly turning to Angelina with a smile, "Of course I wouldn't dream of it –"

"What makes you think you're the only one going?" asked Angelina with a grin.

"Now _that _is why I married you," said Fred, kissing her. 

"Count me in too, Harry," said Bill. 

"Let's blow this conformist joint," said Charlie with a somewhat drunken snigger. 

"Yeah, Harry," said Ron. "Love to."

"Don't mind me, Ron," said Hermione. 

"There couldn't be a party without you, Hermione," said Harry, giving her a charming smile. 

Hermione smiled at him, shaking her head as she laughed, "I would love to."

Harry turned to Ginny and Jonathon, his smile becoming somewhat fixed and obviously motivated by what he ought to do than what he wanted to do. "Are you to going to me coming?"

"Well –" began Ginny, not wanting to make Harry uncomfortable.

"We'd love to," interrupted Jonathon and Ginny surreptitiously glared at him. 

"Great," said Harry. "We'll meet you all by the main doors when this do's over."

Ginny watched him walk back over to the other England players and her boyfriend eye him with awe. She sighed, fortunately unnoticed by her family, and dropped her chin into her palm as she awaited the Ball to end so she could be tortured for the rest of the night by Harry's absent words. 

*****

__

Harry looked around the beautiful garden with wonder and awe. Beautiful trees surrounded him and they were filled with singing birds. Beautifully painted butterflies fluttered past him as he walked down the avenue of cherry trees, following the sound of music. Cherry blossom swirled around him as he stepped into the grove in the garden, in which a woman was playing a huge, Welsh harp. 

"Hello?" 

The woman ceased to play and looked up at him, "Yes?"

"Erm – who are you?" asked Harry carefully. "And how did I get her?"

"I should imagine you brought yourself here, Harry," she said and began to play once again. 

Harry came forwards, "Excuse me," he said and she did not respond. "Excuse me!"

The woman once again stopped playing and looked at him, looking slightly exasperated, "What exactly do you wish to know?"

"How did I get her?"

"My boy, I have told you, you brought yourself here," she repeated. 

"And who are you?"

"Rigantona," she said, beginning to play once more.

"Oh…" said Harry, giving up and looking around for a more talkative person who might help him. 

He noticed a group of cages hung from the branches of a holly, little birds who flapping inelegantly around inside them. Harry walked up to them, across the grove, and peered at them through the gilded bars. He was shocked to realise that their beaks had been bound and they couldn't open them. Out of curiosity he reached forward to open one of the cages and – "STOP!"

Harry spun around to see Rigantona on her feet and advancing towards him, well at least he had got her to respond. She didn't look particularly angry at him, rather more upset and worried. 

"Do not let those birds free, Harry," she warned him. "They are quite useful, but if you were to open their cages they would free and I would never see them again. Do not open their cages."

"Why are their beaks bound?" asked Harry. 

"They will wake the dead with their song, Harry," she told him. "But here that is not necessarily a wise thing to do… There are a great many people who ought not to rise from the underworld. Do you understand."

"Yes, I understand," he said. "Will you tell me where I am now? One minute I was in my bedroom at Privet Drive, the next I was here."

"This could all be a dream you know," suggested Rigantona. "No? I suppose you know this place is real."

"What was it? A Portkey?"

"It's a bit like a Portkey," said Rigantona, walking back to her seat. "An in built Portkey, one that may take you home when you need to… You were wishing for you parents no doubt."

"I've wished for my parents before and nothing like this has happened," said Harry. 

"You are older," said Rigantona. "Magic is quite like growing up – it grows while you are a child. The older you are the better at magic you are, the more stable your skills become… At least that is what I have heard, my skills are quite different to a witch's."

"You're not a witch?" asked Harry, coming forward. 

"Goodness gracious no," laughed Rigantona. "What a dull little life I might lead! No, I am a Sidhe – you do know who they _are don't you?"_

Harry shook his head and felt like an apology was necessary, "I sor –"

"Don't be," said Rigantona quickly. "You have heard of Nymphs, Veela and House-Elves no?"

"Yeah – but you're none of those," said Harry. 

"Of course not, Harry," said Rigantona. "But the Sidhe are a bit like those species, our magic is similar. We have taken it upon ourselves though to guide dead witches and wizards to their rightful place and do many other things, which are taken for granted. We have done these things for many thousands of years and now the Sidhe are nothing but a myth to both the Muggle and Magical world… That was our plan, you know, the Magical world was getting far too – far too violent! Prejudice was tearing the world apart and we chose to avoid if before it was aimed at us, as it was aimed at House-Elves and Nymphs and to a lesser extent Veela. Still we may not carry a wand – not that we need one of course, but it is not the point is it."

"So why did I come here when I was thinking about my parents?"

"This is Annwn, Harry," said Rigantona. "Your mother's father is from here – he is Beli, if I am not very much mistaken."

"Beli?"

"The lord of beyond," she replied. "You have quite a lineage you know, Harry. Descent from the great wizard Godric Gryffindor on your father's side, from Beli on your mother's… You would have lived here to if it were not for Dumbledore's insistence you grew up without knowledge of the Magical World. You were brought to us though, before you were taken to those – suburbs_," said Rigantona, struggling with the unfamiliar word. _

"So my mother was from here?" asked Harry. 

"No – Bel left her mother, I'm not entirely sure what exactly happened. The silly man tried to get her back though, when she was older, but she was a clever little thing. She married her lad early and Beli had no rights, see. He had to give her up," said Rigantona with a laugh. "Ancient magic, oh she was a clever one. As I remember she wasn't at all keen on you knowing that you were descended from us either, wanted to keep you away from the more unsuitable elements in her family… Ha! Muggles on one side, Sidhe on the other! The poor girl!"

"So what am I doing here?" asked Harry. "Why would I come here when I was thinking about my parents."

"Ah! Come, Harry," said Rigantona. 

She led him out of the grove and through a tunnel of honeysuckle, wet with early morning dew that dripped onto him as he walked through. The tunnel ended with a short flight of stairs onto what looked like a battlement. Rigantona led him up the stairs and when he reached the top he gaped with amazement. 

Rigantona sat down in one of the crenels and invited him to do the same. Harry knelt down on the wall, keeping both hands on the merlons either side of him to stop himself from falling. He had a feeling that if he fell then he wasn't going to come back. 

"Behold the underworld," whispered Rigantona in his ear. 

Directly below him was a vast gulf, so deep that Harry could merely see blackness and indeed there was a blanket of clouds below him, the wall was obviously incredibly high. On the other side of this gulf into nothingness was a forest of grim, black poplars. From this altitude Harry could see beyond the forest though, there was a plain filled with spectres and ghosts, pale and colourless. 

Beyond that ghostly plain was another castle, to one side a forest of white trees. Before it Harry could see three roads leading from the entrance, one to the plains before him and the other two lead in opposite directions. 

"Where do those two roads lead?" asked Harry. 

"It depends who you are, Harry," said Rigantona. "Both lead to judgement – the way you have lived your life is the judge."

"Er – what exactly _would this involve?" asked Harry._

Rigantona smiled at him, "One must live a good life and be happy. To the right lie the Alisian meadows, only those who have lived the most wonderful and beautiful lives journey to the meadows. To the left are the lands that you will hopefully one day send your enemy, no-one wishes to go there when their time comes. And then there are the plains before you, where those who had lived unhappy lives dwell shortly before they return back to the Magical World to haunt the places where they fell."

Harry looked towards the bright meadows to the right, but the forest of white trees obscured most of the view. He almost fell off the battlement while he was trying to see the Alisian meadows beyond the white forest and Rigantona laughed. 

"Your parents do not dwell on the plains, Harry, nor have their souls been judged ready for the bleak and barren lands to the left of the castle of Arawn… They lived happy lives and were died for a marvellous cause. I, indeed, cannot think of a more noble way to die, defending one's family from a murderer."

Harry looked over to Rigantona who was looking rather sad, "Did you – did you know my mother very well?"

She looked away from the plains and smiled sadly at him, "Oh yes. The fiery, red-headed child of Beli, you have his eyes."

Harry was rather surprised, no-one had ever said he had his grandfather's eyes before, just his mother's eyes. "It's probably worse to know that she's dead if you actually knew her – I don't remember a thing about her," he sighed. 

Rigantona raised an eyebrow at him, "You are a Gryffindor no? Does not your daring allow you to traverse the underworld and will not your bravery hold you fast while walking through the throngs of spirits?… Arawn is a relation of yours, you know, he quite likes children too."

"Oh…"

Rigantona gave him another puzzled look, "Odd, you do not mind if I call you a child? Another might."

"I would like to be a child again," said Harry. "If I ever was, that is."

"Ah, things run deep in you, Harry," said Rigantona. "You will understand it all soon enough. But now, my boy, you must return to your home and remember that somewhere you have much nicer relatives, though Dumbledore would not like you to meet them." 

"Why?" asked Harry. 

But her answer was drowned in a swirl of wind and Harry's vision was blinded by a bright light as he felt the wind rush past him as he was pulled back to his bedroom in Privet Drive. For several minutes he lay on his bed silently, running through everything Rigantona had said to him through his head. But he had found out about the rest of his mother's family and part of him wondered if Aunt Petunia could possibly be at all related to that great queen he had met in the garden, surely not. 

*****

Harry walked across the hall to sit at Celea Leone's table, she had managed to dismiss her underlings and all of the keen students of magic that usually attended her on these occasions. She was quietly sipping champagne and watching people mill to and fro around the room and between the tables. 

"I thought you'd come by before you left," she said as Harry silently sat down.

"Sorry – I was going to come and say hello you know," Harry assured her. 

"I am not a little girl, infatuated by your fame and looks, Harry," she told him with a smile. "I could not honestly care less if you came to see me or not, but it is nice to see you again, Harry."

"Any pearls of wisdom for me?" asked Harry, giving her a hopeful look. 

"I think perhaps," said the Master, taking a sip of champagne, "it is time for you to understand, yourself and not simply learn from others and your mistakes."

"That's harder than it sounds," groaned Harry, pouring himself a glass of wine after conjuring up a glass. 

"You could go and consult the Sidhe," offered the Master. "But I am afraid I do not think I ought to tell you anything… Except perhaps ask you to remember that power is over-rated."

Harry gave her an impassive look, "No, Celea – I gave up everything and I took away more of myself than I could have ever realised. I'm not whole and it's because of her."

The Master raised an eyebrow at him, "You gave it up voluntarily, Harry. Would you have preferred her to be dead right now? Certainly you gave up a lot, but you could have gained a lot more and even just one life is more important than power. If you had let the girl die when you could have saved her then you would have been as bad as Voldemort, Harry – just remember that before you do anything."

Harry gulped back the rest of his wine and went over to Sabine who was talking with her captain. Celea gave him a sad look as he left her table and took another sip of champagne. He joined the rest of the group headed for the bar and gave the Master one last look before heading out of the hall. As he watched Ginny with Jonathon he wondered if he should tell her what had happened and make her understand, but she wouldn't understand, no-one who hadn't lost the same thing he had would ever understand. 

A/N: Before you say it, no the Sidhe are not gods. They just chose to guide spirits into the underworld, I'm not going to say why, consider it the equivalent of "something in the wood shed" – an unsolved mystery for those who haven't read _Cold comfort Farm_. Anyway only Arawn guides spirits into the underworld, Rigantona's castle in just on the edge of the gulf between the underworld and the otherworld, a pretty standard thing in any myth about the underworld. 

__


	9. Forever Lost

Chapter Nine: 

Disclaimer: It's all J.K. Rowling's, except a few things here and there. 

A/N: I would like to give my deepest apologies that I was so long with this chapter, but I have really good reasons for it. First of all my word processor screwed up and replaced half of my chapter with something else. After rewriting the ending my computer went weird - making me wish I'd taken up my brother's offer of building me a new one yet again -and wouldn't let me access the chapter nine file anymore! To top it all of the house computer – the only one with internet access – needed to have it's hard-drive formatted and since it was a holiday a technician couldn't come out and sort out the cable modem straight away. Hopefully there won't be any problems with my next chapter, thanks for your patience. 

Chapter Nine: Forever Lost 

__

Harry watched colours of every hue and shade twirl around him in beautiful and chaotic patterns. It was like looking through a kaleidoscope without his glasses on. Yet for all the beauty of a scene there was something pulling at him. He pulled back against it, but that just made it stronger and he was brought down onto his hands and knees. 

Then like a lightening bolt the pain struck him. Every muscle in his body screamed in agony at him and Harry's limbs gave way. Something was being dragged from him and it caused him pain worse than anything, even the strongest Cruciatus curse was nothing to this. 

He screamed and never heard any of it, either because his mouth was so dry he couldn't speak or because the pounding in his ears was deafening. Blood rushed through his ears and the colours took on an eyrie glow to them.

And then there was a burst as the pain reached it's height and there was no more, there was simply nothing. Harry floated through pure, bright white and didn't feel anything anymore. Every sense was dulled or perhaps there was nothing to feel, either way it was wonderful. 

Slowly Harry felt the familiar drag of gravity and he hit the floor with a groan and what he hoped wasn't a crack. The cold stone cooled his sweat covered body and then someone lifted him up off it. He found himself looking into Arawn's friendly features, he looked very, very happy. 

"You did it, Harry," said Arawn. "You're free now, it's gone from you… You're okay."

Harry nodded slowly and collapsed to the floor the second Arawn let go of him. He looked over to where Ginny lay and felt the hurt he had felt before, but this time it was different, it was the hollow pain of loss. He felt tears spring up in his eyes as he let his head lull forward into his hands. 

He had lost what had made him unique and that cruel little voice at the back of his head told him he had betrayed his parents, they had died to keep him and his power safe. It may have brought him such thing as Parseltongue, stolen from Voldemort as he had tried to curse him as a baby, but it had brought him insight and knowledge that he could never have had otherwise. 

"You're alright, lad," said Arawn in his musical tones. "She's alright, she's alive – you did well, boy."

Harry pulled himself into a tight ball and continued to weep. He had never felt pain like this, never before in his entire life, even while he was being held in Azkaban or those hopeless nights in the cupboard under the stairs. This pain was without hope, without chance of being forgotten, this was the ultimate pain. 

"You'll be alright, lad," Arawn assured him. 

"No, I won't," said Harry quietly and then whispered so softly it was barely audible, "I'm alone."

Though his words could barely to be heard they made the castle of Arawn ring and rattle, they travelled right out into the Annwn and every Otherworld caught the words. Out in the Magical world beyond wizards and witches all felt a shiver as though someone had walked over their grave and even out in the Muggle world the words caught the breeze and some people heard the last word as a distant whisper. Every world wept with Harry for his loss, everything felt that shiver with him, but he was going to feel that shiver of loneliness for the rest of his life. 

*****

The Dice was the best club in England and was well known for it's line up of good bands, including on some occasions the Weird Sisters. The English Quidditch team were also frequent visitors, except for Harry of course since he played abroad out of international season. Justin was well aquatinted with the place and immediately led their party up to the upper tier where it wasn't as packed out. 

"Nice place," commented Harry, looking down at the dance floor. "Not for your claustrophobic types though…"

"Not your scene, Harry?" asked Jonathon with genuine curiosity and the desire to please. 

Harry turned around and gave him a weak smile, "When I'm back in England I never really get out too much. When I go out it's mainly while I'm abroad… I have to admit that I do go to places like this though, I just never realised that there were places like this in England."

"There have to be, Harry," said Bill with a broad and slightly drunken grin. "Just because some of us can toddle off to grand Quidditch club parties every night, doesn't mean us poor little folk can…"

"And some of us have to spent our Friday nights going over paperwork and never even get to go to normal clubs," said Ron with a groan. 

"You wanted to be an Auror, Ron," said Hermione. "I did warn you – "

"Well who's coming with me to get the drinks?" asked Bill, clapping his hands together as he assumed his role as the responsible elder brother. 

Jonathon was sent with Bill to help carry the drinks. Summoning charms, as in most bars and clubs, were banned in the Dice. There had been any number of unfortunate accidents and sometimes your beer even got spilt. 

By the time the pair had returned the group were discussing how Charlie and his wife, Isabella, had first met and promptly eloped. In the end it ended up being a competition between Charlie and Fred and George of who had made Mrs. Weasley the angriest. In the end Charlie won because everyone agreed there had quite probably been smoke coming out of Mrs. Weasley's ears when she had heard that he had eloped.

"So what's playing Quidditch like in Peru?" Jonathon asked Isabella, who was a Chaser for the Tarapoto Tree-Skimmers. 

"Well I have never really played out of Peru," said Isabella. "I have played against other teams in different countries, but I have never played for them… Ask Harry, he has played everywhere and his family have been playing Quidditch all over the world for centuries."

Jonathon turned wide-eyed to Harry and he noticed Ginny looking very embarrassed. "Where have you played, Harry? If you don't mind me asking that is."

"Well like Izzy said, I've played in all of the major Quidditch playing countries… I would say that playing in Peru has it's differences though, like every other country, the Chasers fly closer to the ground and it's more about dodging than passing the Quaffle. On continental Europe the play is far more colourful and most of the players use a lot of flair. I was playing against the Quafflepunchers once and I was really amazed at how much skill is put into the flying, in England it's invariably just about getting the Quaffle through the hoop, very little time for flamboyance… In Africa I would have to say they usually have sharper moves, not as fast as other teams, but their turns are just incredible. There is something to be said for using a beat-up broom through your childhood if you want that," said Harry, with a smile and left Jonathon open mouthed. 

"You've certainly been around," said Jonathon. 

"You play for the Magpies don't you," said Harry. "Surely you've toured."

"Yeah, but as Isabella said, it's a different thing playing for the teams than playing against them," said Jonathon. "I've seen you fly though, all that experience obviously paid off – and the captain of the English team, Summers, raves about you still…"

"Thanks," said Harry, giving him a weak smile and wishing he had something a little stronger to drink. 

"I thought France was the best place I ever played Quidditch," mused Justin and then turned to Harry with a grin. "Remember when we were visiting Beauxbatons and you fell in the reflecting pool?"

Harry rolled his eyes and groaned, "Vividly – as I recall it wasn't so much of an accident though."

Justin laughed into his beer and Sabine rolled her eyes while Gabrielle grinned at the tale of it her sister had told her. The party dissolved into smaller groups and eventually a few of the couples went down to the dance floor. 

The rest of the evening passed away with drinking and dancing until everyone felt thoroughly nauseous and as though they would no doubt see every stupidly alcoholic beverage they had drunk before much longer. Harry leaned over the balcony to watch Jonathon twirl Ginny. 

"As much as I would love to tease you about your love-life, Harry, I am tired and I want to go to bed," said Gabrielle, taking his arm and resting her head on his shoulder. 

Harry pulled her into his arms, allowing her to sit before him on the thick, wooden rail. She buried her face in his chest and he kissed her hair. The Dice was emptying, they were some of the last people there and the slow dance was ending. 

He lifted Gabrielle's head to ask her if she wanted to go now and found her asleep. With a smile he lifted her up off the rail and lay her down on the padded bench that ran around the outer wall. Sabine and Justin came up onto the tier from the dance floor below and she immediately went to sit by him. 

"De poor girl looks dead," said Sabine, leaning back against the wall and then she looked over to Hermione and Ron. "Vere ve not supposet to go to deir home tonight?"

"Probably," said Harry, closing his eyes. "It's amazing how quickly plans can change."

"Want to head back to your place for coffee, Harry?" asked George, straddling a chair in front of Harry. 

"Sure," said Harry with a vague nod. 

Although Harry was barely conscious of it George rounded up their group and they were stumbling down into the foyer within ten minutes. Gabrielle was still fast asleep and it took Harry a few minutes and a little help from Hermione to remember the joint apparating license. 

They all apparated together in the entrance hall of Herne's Grove and, with a great many 'oooh's and 'aaah's from Jonathon and anyone who was drunk, Harry lead them into the drawing room, which Fred insisted on calling the 'Sketching Room', much to his amusement. 

Nissy and Gart, the two House-Elves from Herne's Grove, appeared in the Drawing Room, startling Angelina, who had been kneeling on the hearth-rug to warm her hands. Harry asked them to get some coffee and to see if there were any potions lying around that might settle his stomach. 

"Quelle heure est-il?" whispered Gabrielle hoarsely.

"'Bout four," replied Harry.

Gabrielle groaned and pulled herself up into a ball. Harry threw a blanket over her as she rested her head on his chest and he looked across the room where the House-Elves were serving coffee. "You really shouldn't keep House-Elves, Harry," said Hermione suddenly. 

Ron groaned and slid down into his chair, "Hermione, Harry can do whatever he likes – and they did come with the house."

"Well I can see the evening is going to get much better," said Bill, pulling himself to his feet. 

"Come on then, Bill – we'll take Jonathon backs shall we, Gin?" asked George, indicating her prone boyfriend. 

"Go on then," muttered Ginny. "I'll just be up to the bathroom."

Nissy took on the task of showing Ginny to the bathroom and George and Bill took Jonathon between them, with the dates trailing behind them. Isabella muttered her good-byes shortly afterwards and dragged Charlie out of the house, for some reason Charlie winked at him. 

"Come on, Fred," said Angelina, climbing back over to him on the sofa. "We ought to be going to?"

"And miss the argument between my brother and his other half?" asked Fred, apparently appalled. 

Hermione and Ron both glared at him and Angelina dragged him out of the house after his brothers. Fred called back something about wishing Harry the best of look, but he was cut off with a yelp as Angelina obviously restrained him. Sabine and Justin followed soon after them, both giving Harry a sly grin. 

"What are they going on about?" asked Harry. 

"Dunno," sighed Ron. "George's always up to something – come on Hermione."

"Good-bye, Harry," said Hermione, kissing his cheek. "You really ought to consider paying your House-Elves as we are in the Modern Era you know –"

"Come _on_, Hermione," said Ron, dragging her away. 

Harry walked to the door after them and called his good-byes out into the night as his two friends disapparated. He walked slowly back into the Drawing Room and picked up Gabrielle. He turned around and came face to face with Ginny who was standing in the doorway looking very embarrassed. 

"Everyone gone?" she asked, blushing furiously. 

"Yeah – sorry," said Harry.

He looked into her eyes and he saw something he had never noticed before, something he hadn't let himself notice before. Swimming Ginny's beautiful brown eyes was hurt and pain, in great amounts, more than Harry had ever thought she might have felt. In the vain hope of repairing some of the damage he did something he would have never though have doing and he invited her to stay. 

"I – I don't think I can. I –"

"They'll never get Jonathon home while they're drunk," said Harry. "And – and if you want to... There are plenty of rooms. Just wait a minute and I'll sort it out for you… Will you?"

"I – I'd love to," said Ginny, setting her jaw. 

Harry smiled at her and walked swiftly out of the room with Gabrielle in his arms. He raced up the stairs and swiftly removed the French girl's shoes and gown. He lay her under the thick duvet and then stopped dead as he caught his breath. 

He was being rather naïve and stupid, there was no way Ginny would forgive him and allow him back into her company without any embarrassment. With a sigh he sat down on the edge of the bed and stirred Gabrielle from her sound sleep. She chuckled and grabbed his hand. 

"'Arry," she whispered, pulling him down to her. 

"Yes?" asked Harry. 

"Any forgiveness can be given if ze lady loves," she whispered, kissing him. "All zat is required is a leetle explanation, ever so leetle… Never should one go to zeir grave wizout 'aving took every chance, yes?"

"When did _you _become so very wise?" asked Harry, suspiciously.

"I 'ave always been wise, 'Arry," she whispered. 

"You sure?"

"Quite," said Gabrielle. 

She closed her eyes again and Harry went downstairs. 

*****

Ginny sat watching Nissy make up the fire in the grate. She didn't know any of Harry's House-Elves, she knew he had three though, Harry had never been particularly keen of telling anyone what he had inherited on his sixteenth birthday. Ron and Hermione knew about everything though, they had alluded to an absolute fortune. 

"Do you have any idea why Harry would want me to stay here?" Ginny asked Nissy finally. 

Nissy turned around and bobbed a curtsey, "Nissy does not know, but Nissy thinks her master might be very sorry for something, but Nissy does not know what. Nissy is sorry that there is nothing more to tell Ginny Weasley."

"Are you sure?" asked Ginny, biting her lip. 

Nissy looked very worried, but she broke, "Master Harry Potter is very sorry about something and Nissy truly cannot tell you what. But Nissy has noticed that many human males are very stubborn and not very clever when it comes to forgiving other humans. Master Harry Potter should not be this way though, because he is not all human –"

"What?"

Nissy squeaked and disappeared. Ginny sunk back into the chair she was sitting in and clutched her head, which was pounding and spinning. Dimly she heard the door open and before she could look up Harry was standing over her. 

"Are you okay?"

"Fine – just a little too much to drink," she replied. 

"I'll get something for it if you like," said Harry. "Er – I'd like to talk to you though, before we sort you out a room."

"Yes?" she asked, trying to smile. 

Harry ran his fingers through his hair in that adorable way that let his hair twist it's way out of it's bindings and fall over his face as it was forever on the brink of it. Musing over how Harry did manage to get his hair to stay put took Ginny's mind off the matter at hand until Harry brought her back to reality. 

"The thing is I – I'm sorry," said Harry. "I know it's a bit late and I know you probably shouldn't forgive me, it's hardly a score to women's rights or anything… I just don't want to hurt you anymore… I know I have been doing… I'm sorry."

Ginny was silent and Harry rested his chin on his interlaced hands, starring at the floor in deep contemplation of what he had just said. She shouldn't forgive him, she should hate him, he had made her unhappy and hurt her more than anyone else in the world. After a long few minutes Ginny made up her mind and crept over to him, placing a hand on his arm. 

"Just explain, Harry, and I would forgive you of anything," she told him. 

Harry turned to her and a smile spread across his face. He slid down next to on the rug and told her all, of everything that had happened the night they had both been changed forever. As Ginny listened she could see every pain and hurt relived in his beautiful green eyes and sometimes she could feel them. 

He had given up a part of himself that had meant more to him than anything, more than just giving up a limb, but giving up his _magic_. Ginny knew that even ordinary wizards could go insane when they couldn't use their magic, or when it was taken away from them in dark rites, but the with type of magic Harry described it was inconceivable to even try to imagine the horror of losing it.

"You shouldn't have done that," whispered Ginny, looking up at him with tear filled eyes. 

"Yes I should," said Harry, she could see he was trying his hardest not to allow his voice to quaver. 

"Giving up your magic and only being left with a shadow of what you could have been isn't worth my life!" said Ginny desperately. "It would have been better for me to die than you live eternally in pain and suffering!"

Harry was rather taken aback, "I would never – _never _put someone's _life _before power… It would disgrace everything about me, and every_one_ about me…"

"I'm glad you told me though…" said Ginny. "Even if I don't think you should have done it – for the sake of my physical existence I thank-you though. But there is one thing that I have only been wondering about for the last few minutes."

"What?" asked Harry, brushing his hair back behind his ears. 

"Your House-Elf, Nissy, told me that you weren't human," said Ginny, biting her lip. "Are you?"

To her amazement Harry grinned at her and laughed. "True! I'm not, at least not all of me… My mother's father was a Sidhe, do you know –"

"Yes," said Ginny. "Hermione told me who they were once – I always wondered why…. So you're one of them?"

"In part," said Harry. "And you shouldn't be worried about asking me _that_ of all things… Being part Sidhe makes me what I am. I'm faster than a normal human, I can take more punishment and I can see thing that any normal wizard ever could – more acute and very much magically sensitive senses."

Ginny ran that through her mind and was rather surprised at the picture that brought a smile to her face. "You were born to be the perfect Seeker!"

They both laughed and then there was silence, which Harry broke suddenly. "So do you?"

"Do I what?" asked Ginny, feeling as though she had missed out on the conversation. 

"After everything I did to you – do you forgive me for it?" he asked. 

Ginny felt her heart lurch at the mere thought of causing him pain and smiled at him, "Of course, Harry. Why wouldn't I? Why wouldn't _anyone_?"

Harry laughed and gave her a truly happy look as his hair tumbled around his face, escaping from back from behind his ears. Another surprise for Ginny was when Harry picked her up and slid back onto his chair, holding her tightly to him. She rested her head against his chest, to tired and happy to complain. 

She could hear his heart beat and lifted her hand up into his hair, which she had never touched before in her life. Harry's breath on her arm sent shivers through her body and he moved slightly so his head was resting in her hair. 

After a while Ginny could tell Harry was asleep by his soft, steady breaths and then heard faintly in her ear a hissing noise. She remembered that Hermione had once told her that Harry would hiss in his sleep like some people talked. Ginny had heard Harry talk in Parseltongue once or twice before, but never like this, so pleasant and so contented. Maybe what people said was true and when you were truly in love with someone they would be perfection to you, Harry certainly was to Ginny. 

A/N: I hope I got Ginny in character in that last bit, please tell me if you don't think she was right. As my friends can tell you my opinion of Ginny's character is rather strict and I don't think she should be as bold and aggressive as some people write her – no objection to them, just a personal opinion. I picture her as reasonably clever and rather shy girl in public, but able to hold her own in private. 

I know Ron said she never shuts up, but take it from someone who was the only daughter and youngest in a family of brothers, it's a typical brotherly comment. One of my brothers also told his friends I was eight for three years, when brothers want to dismiss you as a nothing, especially to their friends, they say stuff like that… Just explaining myself so I don't get a load of flames from feminists. 

__


	10. Friendships Future and Past

Chapter Ten: 

Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me, who would have thunk it hey? 

Chapter Ten: Friendships Future and Past

"I can't believe you did that to them," said Hermione. 

"Aw, go to sleep, Hermione," groaned Ron, clutching his head beneath a pillow as it pounded. 

"But just think what it must have been like for them," said Hermione, glaring at her boyfriend as he tried to bury his head. 

"No, what you mean is that you wanted to see them make-up and be able to say 'I did that, I did'," said Ron with his voice slightly muffled. 

"No I don't'! But you can't just expect them to sort everything out because they've been left in a house together."

"I know my friend and I know my sister," said Ron, rolling over. "Until they face each other it'll never get sorted out – that's the way they are, stubborn. Remember Harry's first World Cup and he got his hand smashed by that Bludger, but he still kept on playing?"

"Vividly," said Hermione crossly. 

"Well there you are: stubborn… Now can we go back to sleep now?"

"No! I still can't believe you did it!"

Ron sat up quickly and immediately regretted it as the pounding increased in his head and he fell back into the pillows. "It was George's idea, Hermione. And what's going to happen? They're alone and neither of them are going to hurt each other."

"They're not alone," said Hermione firmly. 

"Oh what? Gabrielle and Pagasus? They're hardly going to come charging in are they."

Hermione huffed and lay back down turning her back on him. Ron groaned and sunk under the duvet, which Hermione promptly pulled off him. He pulled a pillow back over his head under a pillow and began to count out how long he would have to wait before his apology would be accepted by Hermione and she would make him something for his hang-over.

*****

Harry opened one bleary eye and winced in the light of the morning sun. The important thing was not to make a noise and not to move and his head wouldn't explode: "Good morning, mon ami."

Harry fell off the chair and hit the floor with a bang. He groaned and pulled himself up onto his hands and knees. Whoever had woken him was standing in front of the window and he could only make out the silhouette.

"Ginny?" he asked. 

"I fear not," said Gabrielle, knelling down. "She left quite a long time ago, 'Arry… I zink she was 'eading for 'er apartment if it 'elps."

"Why would that help?" asked Harry, trying to act nonchalant with a hangover. 

"Because you wish to go after 'er?" said Gabrielle, frowning.

"Me? Go after her?… You've got the wrong bloke there."

Gabrielle helped him to his feet and smiled at him, "Well, before you do not go I zink per'aps a leetle potion will cure your 'angover and zen you may not go and get 'er back."

"As long as we've got that clear," said Harry, not fully awake to appreciate the irony. 

Gabrielle smiled and they walked out of the room and down into the kitchen. Pag was sitting at the long, kitchen table surrounded by books and papers that Harry recognised from the seal on the spine as belonging to Stellionmere Library. 

"Looking good, Harry," said Pag with a laugh. 

Harry slipped into a chair and groaned. 

"Wow, what did you drink?" asked Pag, moving aside a stack of books so he could see his friend. 

"I think I have lost every chance of happiness I ever had," said Harry quietly. 

"A good cup of coffee with a bit of Gabrielle's famous hangover cure will sort you out," said Pag amiably. "It's not the end of the world."

"Quite posseebly," said Gabrielle. "At least for 'Arry."

"I can't believe she left," said Harry as Gabrielle pressed a steaming mug into his hands. 

"Who left?" asked Pag, who had been out all morning. 

"Geeny," said Gabrielle. "She 'as left and as you may 'ave guessed 'Arry is not 'appy about eet."

Pag sighed, "I thought you hated her?"

"Apparently not," said Gabrielle. 

"I do," said Harry and they both turned to him. "I hate her – I absolutely despise her… But then there's this really annoying part of me that finds her the most charming, sweet and utterly perfect being in the world… And whenever I go near her the really annoying part of me yells at me to kiss her and fall in love and ignore the really mean part of me that says I ought to hate her."

Pag chewed on his lip thoughtfully, "Why do you hate her?"

"Because I had to get rid of something very important to me in order to save her life," said Harry, starring blankly at the table. "And I didn't realise how much it'd hurt to lose it… But now I do know and I can't stand it…"

"I zink, 'Arry, zat zis is not 'er fault," said Gabrielle, kindly. "Eet was you 'oo did zis and you need someone to blame eet on… I am sorry, but zis is 'ow it seems… Eef you love 'er I zink you should tell 'er."

"Yeah, Harry, don't blame her – it was your decision," said Pag. 

Harry looked up at his friends and gave them both a weak smile, "You are right – at the moment I'm just – I can't believe she left."

"People do seely zings when zey are afraid, 'Arry, now drink ze potion," ordered Gabrielle. 

*****

_Harry wove through the crowd receiving so many slaps on the back that he knew he would be sore tomorrow. The band were playing a rather jazzy tune and people were milling around, drinking champagne and eating finger food. _

_"Happy birthday, Harry."_

_Harry spun around and came face to face with Remus Lupin, he grinned and they embraced and then parted so Remus could get a look at him. He grinned and patted him on the back, "Your parents would be proud, Harry."_

_"Thank-you, prof – Remus," corrected Harry, who hadn't yet got the hang of being on first name terms with his old Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. _

_"Did well on your N.E.W.T.s I hear," said Remus, walking with Harry through the crowd. _

_"Pretty close – I don't really think I should have done my studying in Quidditch stadiums," said Harry, with a weak smile. _

_Remus laughed, "That, I believe, would have been James' idea of the perfect study session."_

_Harry looked behind Remus and caught sight of Lyca, "Sirius told me congratulations were in order," he said with a grin. _

_"Well yeah," said Remus, smiling happily and looking over his shoulder at Lyca. "I think Sirius is imagining something grand – he's a romantic at heart… I just want a quiet little thing and Lyca agrees."_

_Harry laughed, "Just as long as him and Medea don't make me wear a kilt when they get married I don't mind what happens to you."_

_"Thanks, Harry," said Remus, shaking his head with amusement. "Think it's a sure thing then?"_

_"What's a sure thing?"_

_"Sirius and Medea," replied Remus. _

_"Oh yeah – definitely."_

_"Good, you can be best man if I can be godfather," said Remus, grinning at him. _

_"Oh no, I think Sirius'll want you as his best man," said Harry. _

_"Sure? Well you can chat up the bride's maids then."_

_"Fair enough," laughed Harry. _

_"Now if you'll excuse me, my fiancé is calling," said Remus and patted him on the back._

_Harry watched Remus return to Lyca and wrap his arms around her from behind, putting his chin on her shoulder to whisper something in her ear. There were some people who Harry always thought deserved to be happy and Remus Lupin happened to be one of them. _

_Still smiling Harry walked looked over to the head table where Ron and Hermione were in an earnest conversation that he didn't feel much like disturbing. Sirius and Medea were dancing and joking with each other, again Harry wished them well. Parvati had cornered Dean and was making some less than subtle moves on him, he gave Harry a pleading look and Harry just laughed. Seamus and Lavender could just been seen through the crowd walking down to the lake. Brizo and Snape were talking very quickly at their table, Harry knew everything would be well between them, even if he'd rather not. _

_Arabella Figg was sitting at a table with Mnemosyne on her lap, watching her fellow Aurors and Harry decided that she was the best bet for conversation. He walked over and sat down, smiling at her broadly. _

_"Harry!" squealed Mnemosyne in delight. _

_Harry lifted Mnemosyne off Arabella's lap and grinned at her broadly at both of the females in his company. "What brings you here, Harry?" asked Arabella. "No gorgeous young lady? No friend to joke with?"_

_"'Fraid not," said Harry, allowing Mnemosyne to play with the cord threaded with silver beads around his neck. _

_"Last chance, hmm?" said Arabella. _

_"Oh, Ari, how could I even _think _of merely talking to you because I had nothing better to do," said Harry, in mock horror. _

_Arabella laughed, "You're an odd young man, Harry Potter."_

_"Thank-you, I pride myself upon it," said Harry with a broad smile. "So what are your thoughts on this occasion?"_

_"Sure you want to hear? They're a little depressing," warned Arabella. _

_"Certainly," said Harry. _

_"I wish Leah was here," she said. _

_"Oh… I'm sorry," was all Harry could say. _

_"Sometimes, Harry, you can destroy yourself out with your own personal stupidity," said Arabella. "Three 'F's, we had them on our dormitory instead of our year, we were _the _people to be, along with your dad's lot… Great times."_

_"I wish I'd had a chance to meet her," said Harry. "She sounded really wonderful."_

_"She was," said Arabella, and looked away for a moment to wipe her eyes. "But there's a lesson for you, Harry…"_

_"What?"_

_"Never forget what you feel just because you're afraid," she told him with a sad smile. "And now there's only two of us and one's fallen in love with our enemy… Hate is just the opposite pole to love after all, just as attractive."_

_"'Oo's Leah, Ari?" asked Mnemosyne. _

_"She means you," prompted Harry. _

_"Right," said Arabella with a smile. "She, Memo, was a lovely young woman: talented, attractive and she was an amazing Seeker – not as good as Harry here, but pretty damn good all the same."_

_"Oh, it's nothing," said Harry, with a laugh and Arabella rolled her eyes at his sense of humour._

_"What happened to her?" asked Mnemosyne._

_"She died," said Arabella simply. "She was killed by Voldemort."_

_"An' Harry killed him," said Mnemosyne. "All's fair, see."_

_Arabella, to Harry's surprise, laughed and nodded, "Yeah – all's fair now, Memo."_

*****

Harry reached the door to the apartment panting, the elevator had broken down and Jonathon and Ginny lived in the penthouse at the top of the building, the Magpies must be paying a lot because Harry knew Ginny mustn't get very much working as an assistant at Flourish and Blotts.

He leaned against the wall held his hands behind his head, catching his breath. When he had composed himself he turned to the door and knocked. He listened carefully and dimly heard someone stumbling to the door and the clicking of a dozen Muggle locks before the door swung open and he came face to face with Jonathon. 

"Hi," said Harry, with a fixed grin. "Can I speak to Ginny?"

Jonathon nodded and ducked back inside. "Ginny! Come to the door!"

Ginny appeared at the door and immediately turned rather pale and bit her lip. "I – er – wasn't expecting you… Everything – okay?"

"Can I talk to you?" asked Harry. 

"We aren't talking now?" she asked desperately. 

Harry gave her and a weak smile, "Look it's pretty simple – I told you everything didn't I, last night."

"Yeah – thank-you, by the way."

"I needed to tell you," said Harry. "But I kind of forgot something."

"What –" started Ginny before she was cut off. 

Harry leaned forward and kissed her, placing one hand on her waist and the other between her shoulder blades. Suddenly the door slammed and Ginny pulled away with terror in her eyes. She ran to the door and tapped her wand on the door, calling a simple opening charm and ran inside, slamming the door behind her. 

Harry leaned against the wall, resting his head on his arms and cursed himself repeatedly. He had scared her, upset her boyfriend and ruined everything they had worked up to last night. After all the women he knew, after all the girlfriends, after _everything_ he hadn't known enough to know when not to kiss her. 

"It wasn't what it looked like, Jonathon!" Ginny said on the other side of the wall. 

"Really what the hell was it then?"

"Okay maybe he kissed me – but I didn't kiss him back," said Ginny. 

"You didn't look to keen for him to stop though did you," snapped Jonathon. 

"Jonathon! I don't love him! I love you…"

Harry didn't listen to anymore and disapparated on the spot.

*****

Ginny apparated in the kitchen of Herne's Grove and groaned, she had wanted the vestibule, she had never been very good with precise apparation. It didn't help when she was entirely unfamiliar with the lay-out of the house. 

"Is Ginny Weasley looking for something?" asked Nissy, appearing in front of her. 

"Yes - Harry – is Harry here?"

"Master Harry Potter is outside by the fountain. Nissy can take you."

"Just directions would do," said Ginny, nervously. 

"Ginny Weasley must go straight down the lawns and through the Poplar Avenue. The fountain is at the bottom."

"Thank-you, Nissy," said Ginny and dashed out of the kitchen. 

To say the garden was quite large was an understatement, to say that it was a garden was an understatement, these were _grounds_. The lawn, which separated the house from the avenues of trees and the actual gardens, was immense and Ginny felt that it ought to be called a plain rather than a lawn. 

The Poplar Avenue was the one directly ahead of her and lead upwards, Ginny's legs were protesting already. Fortunately the slope turned out to be quite gentle and with the sights of the rest of the garden through the trees as she walked it was really quite nice. 

At the end of the avenue the ground flattened and Ginny entered a shaded spot with a fountain at the centre that she guessed could be seen from the top windows of the house. And Harry was sitting on the opposite side of the fountain looking across the moors that the hill down descended down to. 

Ginny crept around the fountain and sat down next to him, he didn't even respond to her. "Hi."

"Hi," he replied briefly. 

"Lord of all he surveys," said Ginny quietly. 

"Hardly," said Harry. "I only own the house and the grounds."

"Only," said Ginny with a dry laugh. 

There was silence before Harry turned to her and said sharply, "Look, if he threw you out I'm sorry, but there's really nothing I can do besides go and tell him that it was all my fault. If that's what you want me to do though, I'll do it."

"No, he didn't throw me out… I walked out…"

"What? Why?" asked Harry, looking at her with astonishment. 

"It's nothing to do with you, Harry," said Ginny quickly. "It's been a long time coming and that kiss just pushed it over the brink, it would have happened eventually… Better sooner than later really."

She turned to look out at the moors and she could feel Harry's eyes boring into her. "I suppose I should be sorry… But actually, I don't think I am sorry, I didn't like him."

"Well, you'll only have to meet him on the Quidditch pitch now," said Ginny. 

They sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity, staring out at the moors. Abruptly Harry broke the quiet with, "Is everything forgiven and forgotten now?"

"I think so," said Ginny and then there was silence again. 

She allowed herself to glance over at Harry and saw that he was looking thoughtfully at the ground and then suddenly turned back to his house. At that moment she would have killed to know what he was thinking, but then perhaps it wasn't such a good idea. 

"I suppose you'll be going back to the Burrow," said Harry. 

"Yeah, my salary isn't really enough to pay for the shopping _and_ the rent," said Ginny as she tried to figure out what he was getting at. 

"Only Gabrielle is going to be going to live with the other French players soon and Pag's moving to London. But I'll be staying here and you don't want to go back to live with your parents so maybe you could – if you want I mean – move in at Herne's Grove," he said, looking down at his feet. 

A thousand thoughts ran through Ginny's mind, but she managed to battle above them all. "As a friend?"

"As a friend," agreed Harry and then grinned at her. "I promise not to ravish you in your bed."

"Promise?" asked Ginny with a mock serious look.

"Scout's honour," said Harry, with a little sarcastic salute. 

"In that case I would love to," said Ginny. 

They grinned at each other and then there was nothing to say and they sat in silence once more, but this time it was a comfortable one. Ginny looked at his profile as he looked out at the moors and decided that she could perhaps get away with a question. 

"What was it like?"

"What was what like?" asked Harry, turning to her. 

"The power – the power you had."

"Oh," he said and turned back to the moors biting his lip. "Have you ever wished you could understand someone?"

"All the time," said Ginny fervently. 

"Well that's what I could do, but not just people, I could understand everything. But more like feelings… I could feel what everything felt, foxes smelling out their prey, the rabbit hearing it coming… I could _feel _the stone underneath them being eroded by the rain… 

"There were of course other aspects to it, ones that people feared. I could take a wizard's magic for instance, if I concentrated I could tell what someone was about to say and I could see things – originally just dreams, but later I could control what I saw and when I saw it… In the end it was the feeling though… of everything…"

"It must have been amazing," said Ginny, who felt that it was a rather lame description of it. 

Harry laughed, "It was – it truly was."

"And it's all gone?"

"I used it all up giving you your life back," said Harry bluntly. "There's nothing left now."

Ginny knew her apologies would be rather empty, they would only make her feel better, not him. She bit her lip and put her hand into his. He turned to her and smiled and in that moment their eyes met Ginny understood everything she needed to know – maybe he did have some of his power left after all. 

They both turned to the moors and sat in silence, their hands clasped within each other and knowing that their lives were soon to be far more interesting, if not a lot happier. 

FIN

A/N: "The end?!" I hear you cry. Yes this is the end, of this part of the story. I'm planning on making the whole thing a series, quite a few stories, but there might just end up being a sequel to this one, it depends how it takes me. 

Oh and to deter misunderstanding when Arabella said, _"Sometimes, Harry, you can destroy yourself out with your own personal stupidity," _it's meant to have a double meaning. Leah was as they say "either brave or very, very stupid", or Arabella was talking about herself feeling guilty for letting for friend get killed. 

And so there aren't any disappointments, Ginny and Harry will not be together in the next part, that happens at the end and we're not quite there yet. If you thought I didn't explain anything, then please point it out to me so I can get to it in the next parts. But most things that unexplained that are like that intentionally, either as something to remain unexplained and be forever a mystery, or to be explained and or solved in the following parts. 

_ _

_ _


End file.
